


Beautifully Unraveled

by AutumnLily



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-03 13:01:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8714944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnLily/pseuds/AutumnLily
Summary: The scheme hatched by Dumbledore and Snape unravels at the end of book six when Snape's curse fails to kill Dumbledore and instead ricochets upon Snape killing him instantly. Voldemort flees with Bellatrix to begin replotting far from Dumbledore whilst Dumbledore sets new plans in motion with members of the Order.
Draco, disillusioned by the Death Eaters ideology once Voldemort began attacking his mother for his failure to murder Dumbledore, wishes to assist the resistance and pleads with Hermione to help him get back on track with school whilst he attempts to subtly manipulate her into helping him help Harry without either knowing.
Hermione herself has a secret task to fulfill at the behest of Dumbledore, she has only weeks to complete her research which may make or break the Order's attempt at finally ending Voldemort. 
Two boys with big ideas begin meddling with magic neither are prepared for with disastrous consequences.
How will all of these characters' stories intertwine and play out? Read to find out...





	1. Chapter 1

~Present Day~

Hermione had been skulking in the restricted area of the library for longer than she had anticipated. She had research to complete, a secret mission to fulfil, orders of Dumbledore, however, as usual, Dumbledore’s secret missions had to be kept secret therefore she still had to adhere to the set schedule, bedtimes, library hours and curfew. She could see Draco Malfoy watching her and she was hoping to wait him out. He usually left with Crabbe and Goyle much earlier than this, however although she was curious as to why those three were in the library this late, she was not curious enough to wish to talk to them or be jeered by them.

Draco finally picked up his book bag and placed his parchment inside, he beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle and together the three vacated the library at a slow and leisurely pace. Hermione let out a sigh of relief, she had been dreading the thought that they were waiting for her – not due to fear of what they would do as even Crabbe and Goyle weren’t stupid enough to physically fight a girl, and whatever wit Draco could serve out Hermione could hit back harder, faster and smarter – no, she was worried that Draco was hoping to try and stop her from making the Gryffindor curfew that had been put in place at the beginning of their 7th year. 

The beginning of their 7th year at Hogwarts had so far been their best, and their worst. 

Dumbledore had almost died when Snape had attacked with the Avada Kedavra curse the night the Death Eaters entered Hogwarts using Draco’s fixed Vanishing Cabinet. Snape had meant to kill him, it had been revealed by Dumbledore at Snape’s funeral that the man they all feared and loathed had actually been working for the Order from the moment Voldemort went after Lil Potter. Dumbledore had admitted Snape’s longevity and success as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbldore himself was perplexed at how his plan had failed, Dumbledore was not long for this world and he and Snape had attempted this in an effort to save Draco Malfoy from the clutches of Voldemort, end Dumbledore before the curse became too much and too painful, and to validate Snape’s position as second in command of the Death Eaters. Voldemort had gone into hiding as his perceived first lieutenant had been a sheep in wolf’s clothing in his den, and he, the most powerful Dark Wizard of the ages, could not understand how his plan had backfired to have Dumbledore murdered by the Malfoy child or Snape himself, nor how he had not seen Snape for what he was – a foolish Blood Traitor who forsook his Master for a filthy Mudblood. Voldemort was worried as both the Chosen One and Dumbledore remained together, alive, resistant, and he had fled with Bellatrix, who, to her credit, had not once said I told you so to her Dark Lord. New rules had been put on the students who were allowed back to Hogwarts; many parents had once again kept their children home for safety’s sake now that it was a known and accepted fact that the most prolific Dark Wizard of the ages was once more roaming about and attempting to gather up his army to overthrow the Ministry and restructure the Wizarding World to reflect the views of the Death Eaters.

Hermione’s pondering halted as she caught sight of the time piece on the library wall - if she was late again she would have to wake the Fat Lady who would tell McGonagall in the morning who would then have no choice but to remove some of Hermione’s school privileges including extra library time on Thursday evenings – those extra library hours being the reason she was now in the predicament she was, shoving her books into her bag as quickly as she could manage, her ink spilling as she knocked it over with her elbow my mistake.   
“Tergeo,” Came a lazy voice behind her. She turned and saw Draco Malfoy leaning against a stack of books, his bag slung over his right shoulder, one foot cocked on his toes. He had shaken off Crabbe and Goyle in the hallway outside the library by claiming he had forgotten an important Potions book – as neither of them were taking Potions this year they allowed him to retreat in solitude and continued on their way to the dungeons.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Hermione managed as she placed the now empty ink well into the front pocked of her bag and clipped it shut, turning to head towards the library exit. She began walking, bag over both shoulders pulling her straight up like a ballerina, her chest pointing forwards and her hair bouncing upon her shoulders. Aware that the seconds were ticking by she kept a brisk pace and Draco had to drop his relaxed façade to keep up with the stern brunette.

“To accompany a Mudblood to their common room counts as a chivalrous act, right, Granger?”

“Malfoy, if you’re waiting for me in the library coming on close to curfew I’d hazard a guess that you need something which makes this act much less chivalrous and much more cunning… however, if all you want is to degrade me about my blood status then squelch off, I have just read about the most amazing spell which shrinks muscles as to make your opponent less of a physical threat… I wonder what that spell would do to your… well…” and she raised her right eyebrow and nodded towards Draco’s pants.

Draco flinched slightly and tried to play it off by changing sides with bag. He eyed Hermione’s bag upon her back, it was so full that books were attempting to push open the lid of the bag, and it had ink stains all over the front pocket. He wondered how she managed to contain all of this information inside without her mind fracturing from educational overload. 

“Look, Granger, you know I’m ok now… you know my dad is still tied up with Voldemort, but you and the Order now know that my mother and I are just keeping up appearances. You know what is inside of me, and yeah, I don’t much like you and your pretentious know-it-all bit, but you also know I’m no longer like my dad was… is…”

“What’s your point, Malfoy?” Hermione said through gritted teeth. She was well aware that Malfoy and his mother had both stepped into the empty shoes left by Snape after his demise. Dumbledore had correctly guessed from conversations with Snape in the past that Narcissa had never felt the pull towards the Death Eaters beliefs, but had married Lucius as she had a duty to her family, and he to his. She was also well aware, thanks to Tonk’s getting a bit loose lipped after too many Fire Whiskey’s over the holidays that Lucius had a predilection for the bald, powerful, tall, skinny, male type… aka Dearest Daddy Death Eater, Voldemort. Draco had been raised in his father’s shadow, brainwashed from an early age to believe the egocentric, narrow minded, puritanical and malicious beliefs of the Death Eaters. Narcissa had tried her hardest to raise him to show a façade of superiority but to offer help to those below his station. Draco had been in conflict between his parent’s beliefs his entire life, the result turning him into a man-child with a high opinion of himself and a sense of entitlement but who also sought to protect and help those he cared about or those in his charge. As his family was well protected he’d never before had to delve into the side of him that kept him human… until Voldemort started threatening his mother to make him more submissive in his mannerism and compliant in his actions. Now Draco only wanted to see the downfall of the man who held his mother by her throat, who spelled her bald to humiliate her, who used his wand to throw her around the room, who slashed at her clothing and caused her to show skin in front of men like Avery and Nott, and who had shredded and healed her skin repetitively to make sure her blood was truly pure.

Knowing that Draco and Narcissa had switched sides didn’t make Hermione feel any more inclination to become friendly with either of them. When she saw them at Order meetings she nodded politely to Narcissa and openly ignored her son who somehow always found a way to sit close by or to walk slightly too close to Hermione in the cramped halls throughout Grimmauld place. Hermione had decided, however, that she would be as nice to him as he was to her, for the sake of the Order. If that meant not at all that was fine.   
“I was thinking.”

“A dangerous and difficult feat, I’m sure…” Hermione drawled dryly.

Shut up, Granger, and listen. As the Greatest Good is now both our intention, that with all of my Ministry connections – some are with the good guys as Father always kept in high graces no matter his underlying taste for Voldemort’s victory – that having me, a bright, intelligent, charismatic and well known young man in the Ministry of Magic after graduation could really help the Order’s cause.”  
Hermione turned to look at him and raised one eyebrow. That actually could be extremely helpful. Voldemort was well, he was gaining momentum, the Ministry was still in shambles however Scrimgeour was doing his best to rally the resistance. Dumbledore was fighting with everything he had, and, as always, Hogwarts was the safest place a person could be during a tumultuous time like this… the Ministry wasn’t far behind in terms of safety… but there were spies in there… with Malfoy infiltrating the Ministry as a Death Eater who actually reported to the Order he could potentially warn Dumbledore of the identities of the plants Voldemort had placed. There were the obvious handful, but everyone knew there were a few unobvious ones, and, most likely, a few imperiused. Draco would be able to find out thanks to that moving tattoo on his forearm. 

“Malfoy, you need to mention this to Dumbledore at the next meeting, not to me at 10.51 on a Thursday evening in a dark corridor. Goodnight.” Hermione turned to begin her incline towards Gryffindor tower. 

“Wait!” Draco’s harassed whisper assaulted her ears in the near silence. Hermione stopped, three steps above Draco, facing the incline and sighed waiting for him to finish. She looked over her shoulder at him and raised her right eyebrow.

“I need your help, Granger. My dad is still attempting to force me into Death Eater meetings, my concentration has been in tatters since I spent last year not thinking about classes but about that damned cabinet, and, as I am keeping up appearances for the sake of the Order, I am having to spend an awful lot of time in the Slytherin Common Room bragging about the fact that my aunt is the one Voldemort ran off with and pretending to feign interests in the Slytherin slags who all think this tattoo is their ticket to a Golden Life as the Madam of Malfoy Manor… I, I’m falling behind in my classes and I…” Malfoy looked away, his pointed face turned towards the floor as he readied himself for his confession, “I need you to help me catch up.”

Hermione hadn’t turned yet, body still facing the staircase. She smiled over her shoulder at him when she heard that he no longer cared for the likes of Parkinson and the others. She knew he was slimy but she was still a young woman, full of chemicals and he was still a young man full of testosterone, and pheromones that sometimes she thought she could smell when he sat close to her at the Order meetings, or when he pressed passed her in the close corridors squishing her between his chest and the wall, when making their way back to the fireplace to floo back to the room of requirement. He was good looking, there was no question about it, but she had never considered him as someone worthy of looking as good as he did. She knew the only reason she cared was puberty and so the thought of looking at him like that never made her feel guilty. 

And if he truly did want to learn, she was the brightest witch in their class – he would never accept tutoring or guidance from anyone less than the best… although in the Slytherin handbook Mudblood comes just above Blast Ended Skrewt… or the other way around.   
She turned, the moonlight streaming in and illuminating her face, focused, waiting, her hair across her left shoulder, bag still holding her straight. Her lips were full and the light made them seem purple, a contrast to her glowing cheeks and neck, and the whites of her wide eyes, and Draco almost thought he saw her cheeks rushing with blood as he took in the curve of her silhouette against the window. Her body turned into itself, unsure how to respond to such a blatant stare of desire, as although she knew she wanted to be looked at like that she was unprepared as the desire was emanating off of Draco Malfoy. Hermione’s mind was racing. 

“Where do you propose these sessions take place, Malfoy? We are still enemies on the surface.”

“Room of requirement. I’ve been going there for weeks to attempt to study in solitude. There is all we need, desks, cushions, shelves, the class books and the perfect lighting for reading. The carpets are as plush as my study at home, and everything is forest green – although no doubt when a Gryffindor enters some of the cushions will turn crimson.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow night, during the Quidditch match. Your golden boys are playing, so are Crabbe and Goyle. No one will miss us in the crowds. No one will see us on the 7th floor.”

Hermione processed this and nodded. It was logical, it was safe and he was right. 

“Ok Malfoy. I’ll help you. However, you owe me.”

“What could a high and mighty Gryffindor desire from a lowly defected Death Eater, ask Merlin?”

“If my assistance turns your grades around and you do infiltrate the Ministry… I’ll call on my favour then.”  
Malfoy looked at her. She was shrewd. He sometimes wondered if she had of been born into the right type of family with magical parents if her brains and cunning thought process would have made her eligible for Slytherin. He knew she was not opposed to breaking rules she deemed intrusive or obstructive to achieve her goals. She was bright – exceptionally so. He had come second to her in their schooling every year but their 6th year when he had come 12th in their years overall marks as his mind had been elsewhere. He was unsure what sort of favour she would require but he was a MALFOY after all and if there were three things a Malfoy held true to it was their ability to pay their debts, their ability to acknowledge those who had helped them, and the acquisition of the finest things in life.

He stepped towards her and cupped her face in his left hand bringing her eyes up to look into his. “Why not just ask for Galleons, Granger? I can pay you more in one year than a Ministry career can offer you in a lifetime. That way after our sessions you needn’t seek me out…”

He was certain, this time. Blood was reddening her cheeks, her lips were darkening and her eyes were not wavering from his. Her body was responding to his proximity and he could feel the electricity between them. 

“The price for my tutelage is a favour Malfoy - and if you touch me again it will turn into three. I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Goodnight.” With that Hermione turned and began her dash up to Gryffindor tower. She made it just as the Fat Lady’s eyes were beginning to flutter.   
“One more minute and I’d have been sleeping, young lady. You know we Dormitory guardians have been spelled to reflect the curfew… Quick, quick, password.” She yawned as she slid forward for Hermione who hadn’t yet said the password.

“Valour” whispered Hermione as she stepped foot inside the common room. She smiled to herself. Harry and Ron were in front of the fire playing Wizards Chess. Ron was triumphing by his expression and whoops. Ginny was asleep in a chintz chair under a window, Hedwig nuzzled into her shoulder sitting on the arm chair, Crookshanks curled up on her lap. Hermione walked passed Harry and Ron waving silently and pointing upstairs and at herself to indicate she was heading to bed as she gently shook Ginny and led her upstairs to the girl’s dorms.

Ron stood and attempted to help Hermione hold his sister up but Hermione pointed at the girls stairway which, if he put a foot on it, would turn into a slide and make it near impossible for Hermione to take Ginny to bed or to fall into her own warm, cosy sanctuary.  
Harry waved and mouthed ‘Good night’ as he and Ron began placing the Chess pieces back in Ron’s uncle’s box. Hermione heard Harry yawning as she closed the girls entrance door behind her.

***

Draco made it back into the Slytherin common room just before the dungeon door became armed. These new curfews were a waste. He was aware that Voldemort was nowhere near the school, nowhere near Diagon Alley, far from the United Kingdom. Voldemort and Bellatrix were in Tasmania, they were making plans with the Antarctic vampires. Dumbledore knew this; the curfew was in place for the sake of the other children’s parents whom had no idea where Voldemort was, but whom knew he was still active somewhere, they were demanding stricter measures be put in place hence these blasted restrictions.

Draco was very fortunate that decades ago his family had paid to have a private Malfoy bedroom spelled in place for Draco’s great-great-grandfather when he attended Hogwarts. It was not as big as Draco’s room at home, however it was just as lush and comfortable. He collapsed onto his bed and, lying on his back, legs spread just so, staring at the ceiling, divested himself of his day’s attire. He used his nonverbal magic to scourgify his body and then pointed his wand at the candle’s hovering near the door. The room went pitch black and he found himself smiling in the dark.

Her body was impressive. She was taller than her posture gave on. Her body was fuller than he had anticipated. It really was too bad she was from filthy stock as they would be spending a lot of time together, alone, in secret. He loved having secrets and he loved wide hips and brown hair. Her eyes were the colour of her blood – muddy – but her skin was alabaster under moonlight and in the dark of the night hidden from judging eyes and pressuring family members… he could almost pretend she was pure.  
Draco’s hands slithered south as his exhaustion took him under, and, without consciously realising, he began touching himself to the lucid dream images of Hermione playing out in his mind.

***

~ Godric’s Hollow, Many years earlier ~

“Alby, we simply cannot allow them to roam free, you must come to terms with the fact that although we have similar forms we are not like them – if we were there would be no muggles, no squibs. It is, of course, no fault of their own, however they do pose a threat as their kind prefers to perform acts of war with primal violence and as advanced as we are with our unique abilities they greatly outnumber us.” Gellert Grindelwald eyed Albus Dumbledore curiously as he presented his argument. He was aware that his argument had holes and that if Albus wished he would find them and tear the entire argument to shreds, Albus was smart and shrewd, however he was also cunning and he knew what had to be done so that both boys would be able to live free lives.

“And what do you propose we do with the muggles, Gellert?” laughed Albus, “Create a muggle attraction park, a zootopia of sorts?” Albus’s eyes hardened. “Or do you simply wish to begin a cull, Gellert?”

“The muggles will be allowed to live however we will create safe spaces for them, we will create utopic environments in specific parts of the world and spell the rest of the world to prevent muggle access and place them together where they may live out their days amongst themselves. This solves numerous problems with a single move; we will no longer need live in fear of being found out and persecuted as we did in the days of old; we will no longer need to worry about the pure lines of magic becoming polluted – ahem – diluted by magic-muggle marriages and breeding; we will be able to perform magic out in the open; we will no longer need to worry about obliviating or international statutes of secrecy, nor border control on dangerous beasts or imported magical equipment; and, most importantly, Alby, Ariana will be free. You will be free. You will be able to begin whichever career you feel yourself most drawn to, you and I will be renowned for having created the perfect magical world, we will live like Kings and your sister will be treated like a Princess – we will hire the best healers, the most comforting nanny, the most sought after chefs and Ariana need never live another second in the shadows. She will be safe again, Alby. We will all be safe.”

Albus’s eyes clouded over as the actions of the muggle boys came back to him… Gellert was finally making sense. A world in which Ariana would be safe and Albus would be free. It was almost too much to imagine, too implausible, an impossible feat… yet Gellert and Albus were higher than average, both had a world of opportunity at their feet… Gellert’s plan could be accomplished in a manner of years if they both took up their offered positions within the ministry, they would excel, they would receive accolades, and they could begin gathering the right people to put into play when the time for the move was right. 

“And you claim all we need are these Hallows?”

Gellert reached forward and placed his hand upon his friends, his body leaned inwards closing the distance between the two and Albus could feel the warmth emanating off of Gellerts face as he reddened with excitement. 

“Yes, Albus. All we need are the three Deathly Hallows.”


	2. And so it is...

Chapter 2

~ Present Day ~

Hermione awoke startled early on the Friday morning of her first tutoring session with Draco. She had not slept well, she’d tossed and turned all night and when she woke she could still feel his fingers on her chin. She felt as though Draco touching her should have made her feel dirty, or tainted, when in actuality it had the opposite effect, she had felt alive and elated at the cool warmth radiating from his fingertips… she found herself lying in bed reminiscing on the night before, Malfoy’s eyes, sweeping up her from toes to tip, his skin softer than any silk she’d ever worn, his breath a fresh mixture of spearmint and liquorice, his sweat the scent of frankincense, lavender and freshly cut grass. His entire being had penetrated each of her senses overwhelming her until the only thing she could think of doing was saying yes, yes, yes, Malfoy, yes, I will help you so that I may sit with you in secret and sniff your movements and relish in your gaze…  
Hermione was not a complete novice in the way of love or arousal. She had kissed a handful of boys. Viktor, twice, once at the Yule Ball, and once just before he entered the maze. Their first kiss has sent her stomach plummeting to the ground, it was pleasant but not what romance novels had taught her to expect. Not one to give up easily she had attempted again, she had willed herself to feel something more, the fear and excitement of the maze was sending adrenaline through her yet when their lips touched for the second time she felt cool and calm – the opposite that a woman should feel at the hands of their lover.

Hermione had kissed Ron, more than twice. At first it had been exciting, however it had dwindled quickly. He was definitely one of her best friends, but she and he had decided that is all it was and had come to the conclusion their friendship was not worth potentially destroying for the sake of a short lived fling. She had seen him eyeing her on and off for weeks after they decided not to peruse their fledgling romance and she was both relieved and pleased when Lavender came back on the scene to “soothe Ron” after his “heartbreak at the hands on Hermione.”

Seamus, as a dare, her very first dare the first night back at Hogwarts in their 7th year… Romilda had suggested the 6th and 7th years play spin the bottle… Hermione had allowed herself to be goaded into participating when she saw Romilda spell the bottle so that her spins would only land on Harry… Hermione knew Harry and Ginny were still together and had been curious as to whether Harry would play. He hadn’t. Hermione, however, had kissed Seamus, and Ron had kissed Lavender and Neville had kissed Romilda who had not realised her spell hadn’t prevented other spinners landing on her. Neville had taken to cutting flowers from the edge of the forest and leaving them near Romilda, but had so far not bolstered his courage to ask her to accompany him on a Hogsmeade trip. Hermione adored Neville and believed he deserved better, however if Romilda was what his heart wanted then she promised herself, and Neville, that she would support him.

Hermione had even kissed Harry one evening, but no one needed to know about that, and what a mistake that had been! They hadn’t been able to look each other in the face for almost a fortnight, Harry throwing himself into his Quidditch captaincy, and Hermione attempting to cleanse herself of the memory by purchasing vials for memories to be kept in and one day viewed in the pensive and had begun practising memory charms. Neither of them had ever mentioned that moment in one of the Slug Club parties where Fire Whiskey had been liberally poured and, each fuelled with alcohol, high spirits at end of term and Dumbledore’s defeat of Voldemort’s plan, leaned into hug each other and face planted into a sloppy smooch. It had been disgusting in all honesty, Hermione had no brothers but imagined this was what it would be like to kiss one. Both pulled back almost immediately, Hermione blushing fierce crimson and Harry leaning forwards to burp over her shoulder as she held him up. They had walked back to the Gryffindor common room in silence and had been happy to see their separate doorways leading to each dormitory so they could fall asleep and pretend to not remember the 2 seconds of mouth slime and teeth banging. 

Fred… that had been the closest thing Hermione had felt to true … something… it had started as laugh, it always did with Fred. Hermione had been at the Burrow, sitting outside alone under the stars, the moon was a mere finger nail and the gnomes were parading around in the dark mumbling loudly and grumpily at each other as it was gnome breeding season and the Burrow only had a handful of females for the entire male population. The females had already chosen their mates and were now quietly situated in their holes growing gnome babies in their bellies whilst their men patrolled and protected their nests getting into fights with the disgruntled males who had missed out on a partner. Fred had come outside to get away from his mother who had started on him due to his hair length. Both Charlie and Bill had had long hair, Fred had thought it made them seem distinguished. He had alluded to the fact that growing his hair would allow others to tell him and George apart at which point George had pointed his wand at his own head and magically grew his hair to match Fred’s. Fred had laughed, but secretly had wanted that small moment of individuality. 

Fred had loped down to where Hermione was sitting and collapsed onto the grass next to her. His hair had been magically re cut to reflect his normal style, and his smile was just as wide as usual but his eyes were nowhere as genuine. Hermione had noticed but not pointed it out. Fred and Hermione had always been able to talk easily, she respected his business acumen and he respected her intelligence and curiosity towards the types of magic he could perform which had nothing to do with academia. As they sat side by side Hermione had felt a pull in her stomach. She turned to see Fred staring intently at her. He made a face and poked his tongue out and she giggled. He then leaned in, wrapped his arm around her and gently folded them both backwards towards the earth so that she was held comfortably in his embrace and he was positioned just hovering over her, their chests so close yet not touching. Fred lowered his face to her, she raised her own assuming their lips would meet, instead Fred had turned and dipped his nose to her neck, inhaling deeply. 

“Hermione, you always smell like frankincense. I don’t know how you do it, is it magic? Or is it you?” Her heart had fluttered – she had never been complimented on something so primal before. Every other boy attempting to woo her had complimented her mind. There was no need here, she knew Fred respected her brains, and was equally thrilled that her scent was just as enthralling. She nuzzled her own nose and felt her nostrils flare as she took in his sweaty, musky yet sweet fragrance. Fred was a wooden fire, a cup of tea, wet grass and something more… salty… which she had never before smelled but which she was not opposed to.

He had moved his entire body upon hers, his chest against her breasts, her nipples at attention poking through her thin pyjama top. Fred’s hips pushed down slightly, applying the lightest of pressure to her nether regions and then he kissed her, deeply, his lips parting her own, his tongue invading her mouth, she could still taste the pumpkin juice, the berry tart and whipped cream from dessert upon his tongue. Hermione responded, her arms encircling his neck, her hips pushing up against his to match the slow yet steady rhythm. Fred’s hands wandered, they slipped down her neck, tracing her shape as he descended towards her pyjama bottoms. His fingers slid into the waist line and he gently caressed her skin through her thin cotton panties. Hermione moaned into his ear and grabbed a handful of Fred’s hair – and Fred moaned right back into her mouth, his breath becoming shallow as his hips began to increase their rhythm against her clothes. Hermione could feel him lengthening, and she smelt the saltiness again, this time acknowledging that it was his arousal seeping through his boxer shorts. She whispered his name, she wanted him to know she was right there with him, perhaps wanted him to hear her as he pushed against her, maybe it was so she could re-enter reality at the sound of her voice… hearing his name pushed Fred over the edge and Hermione felt him spasm, his arms tightening around her, his hips digging in to her, forcing her into the earth with his need to simply become one with her body. He thrust twice more, Hermione was positive his hip bones would leave bruises, but she was looking forward to seeing the marking tomorrow, looking forward to being reminded of her mini adventure. Fred’s fingers entwined her hair and he pulled her head back and inhaled her neck once more before spilling his seed inside his shorts, the moisture creeping through onto Hermione’s pyjama bottoms, her mouth wide at the thought that her body had just given a man true pleasure…  
He held her for a while before using his wand to clean them both non-verbally. She felt the stickiness disappear, and suddenly the sore spots on her hips were also gone. She was slightly disappointed but knew it was the right thing – she shared a room with Ginny who would notice blue circles upon her hips and who would, undoubtedly, question the presence of said marks when Hermione was in a home shared only with Ginny’s brothers and Ginny’s boyfriend. Fred had given Hermione sly smirks and proceeded to corner her for the rest of their vacation, however as much as Hermione had enjoyed their escapades she had never found the release he did, nor had she ever given him herself in entirety. 

Hermione lay in her bed for longer than was her usual pattern. On a day like today, sun streaming in the window, a free slot followed by break, then double Potions, she would have normally been up as the sun rose, dressed by the time the other girls were surfacing, and eating so she could spend 3 hours in the library before making her way down to the dungeons to Professor Slughorn.   
Potions classes were a disaster last year what with Harry finding that stupid old book of Snape’s. He had since handed it to Dumbledore as they were unsure if Snape had created other spells which may be of benefit to the Order, and, without his trusted guide and mentor, Harry was now, finally, back to being average in Potions. Slughorn looked into his cauldron with a hopeful eye each class and turned with disappointment, but never enough to throw the Chosen One from the Slug Club, oh no, Slughorn knew a connection when he had one so he continued to blame Harry’s performance on love sickness and claimed that in time his mother’s genes would once more illuminate the potion within the cauldron! 

Hermione sighed as she heard Lavender whispering accio nightgown to make her dressing gown float from the wall hanger to her bed. If Lavender was awake that meant it was definitely time to get up.

***  
Draco was also awake, his bed was still warm, pillows enchanted to never lose their fluff, and a House elf had placed his daily cup of lightly sweetened coffee upon his night stand. Draco sat up shaking his head as he did so. He really needed that coffee today. Granger was going to work him like a mule horse, but, if he wanted his plan to succeed, he would have to work as hard as she pushed. Draco hadn’t been exactly lying when he had told her his reasons… he had simply used his Slytherin trait of omission when it came to certain details and although he knew that in a Gryffindor’s eyes omitting facts is the same as lying it wasn’t in Draco’s mind. Everything he had said had been truthful; he really did want to work in the ministry to offer the Order as much information as he could gather. He truly did wish to find out the identities of the Imperiused and the eager spies. He truly did wish to gain professional momentum and make his way high up the pecking order. His main reason was his mother. Narcissa had not been the same since she had defected. Draco understood why –coming from the family she did, having seen how her sister Andromeda had been treated, knowing the torture that her sister Bellatrix so thoroughly enjoyed enacting upon those who betrayed her Dark Master, Narcissa had been almost a sickly green every time Draco had seen her at a Death Eaters meeting. He was a good son, he had been covering up her ghostly pallor with a charm Parkinson had used once in the common room after drinking too much Fire whiskey and going green right before a Halloween Feast – she had vomited and then looked in the mirror, waved her wand around her face in an anticlockwise fashion twice and muttered fassial aestheticka restoro, a trick Draco knew would one day come in handy. The Dark Lord was no longer attending the meetings in person as he was south with Bellatrix, yet he would send his Basilisk Patronus in lieu of his real self and in many aspects this was worse. When Voldemort himself was there he would not enter until all were seated, would not leave his seat, and would be the first to rise and leave. His patronus, however, would slink around the table, its silver tongue darting out as it sniffed each member of the meeting, winding up and down legs without touching, but giving off an eerie impression of being haunted by a badly behaved pet snake. On occasions when a member reported something that displeased Voldemort the snake would attempt to sink its translucent fangs into their necks, and it would sometimes simply lie spread from one end of the table to the other, a huge feat as the table was easily 15 feet in length. Draco shuddered as he remembered one evening when the snake had attempted to decapitate his mother after she relayed that there was nothing to report on the Order.

Draco wanted to protect what little family he had left. His father was a lost cause, even if Voldemort fell Lucius would still be the coward he is now, bending his knee for the biggest bully in the playground. Bellatrix had murdered the last of the Black’s years ago, Tonks was not very familial, Andromeda was Merlin only knew where these days, and the only other person whom looked at Draco like he was worth a damn was Dumbledore and that was simply because Draco was being groomed to take over Snape’s position as turn cloak. Voldemort thought Draco was purely on the purebloods side, faking a slight interest in school and pupils to offer information from Hogwarts and stay in the good books of the Order in case they let something slip… Dumbledore thought Draco was purely on the side of good only reporting to Voldemort what Dumbledore entrusted him to do so. Draco was working only for himself. And his mother. It was a bloody difficult task, and yes, he had been falling behind in one or two classes, but the real reason he had asked Granger for help, not simply as she was the brightest in their year, but as he knew she was as curious about spells kept off the school education list as he was, and together they may be able to truly learn something of value if given the chance. He knew it would take time, goading, perhaps manipulation, possibly bribes, and probably blackmail – but there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his mother. Not anymore. He had realised this weeks ago and had spent every spare moment devising his plan. Draco was going to eliminate Voldemort… but to do this he would have to help Potter without helping Potter and the only way to help Potter without him knowing it was Draco’s assistance would be by using Potter’s mudblood. So Draco planned on doing just that. He was aware that if he had come right out and said “I want to help Potter kill Voldemort” that she would have been suspicious. Although he was working for the Order now his past still counted against him, but he needed his mother safe. She was his only family, the only person to have ever truly loved him, the only one wearing the Dark Mark who actually had a heart and gave a damn and could potentially be saved after this was over… Draco didn’t care who he had to help or whom he had to kill. This was war.

***

Hermione entered the great hall for breakfast mere minutes after Draco did. As she had to come from the topmost tower, and he from the dungeons, he was closer. As she walked past his position at head of Slytherin table he caught her eye and cocked his head upwards indicating to the 7th floor. She nodded and continued on her way towards Gryffindor table where it was fairly empty. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were undoubtedly practising before the match tonight. Hermione sighed and sat down, once again alone. She was used to her solitude however it didn’t mean she always welcomed it. Sometimes she liked having people around her to share with, to talk to, to listen to, to offer advice to. She smirked. She wondered how well Draco would handle being advised on his educational performance by her, a mudblood. A slight cramp in her stomach reminded Hermione that she really did need to eat, so she gathered two pieces of buttered toast, a chalice of pumpkin juice, another of unsweetened milky tea, and proceeded to nibble until there were only crumbs in front of her. The cramp in her stomach dissipated and she felt confident that her body was ready for classes. She hoped Ron and Harry wouldn’t be late, Slughorn was jovial but detested tardiness. 

When Hermione reached the dungeons she rolled her eyes when she saw the only person standing in front of the door to Slughorns room was Draco. His right foot was propped up underneath him, bag at his feet, a falsely deceptive charismatic smile upon his lips.   
“All alone, are we Granger?” he mused looking around sarcastically checking for others. He pushed off the wall and walked towards her, not touching her but close enough to make her step back, back against the cold stone passageway. He put his arms up and placed his palms flat against the wall on either side of her creating a barrier with his body. She looked up at him with a cocked eyebrow and her lips twisted to show her disgust.

“What are you doing, Malfoy?”

“Thought it might be a nice gift from me to you to show you what it feels like to have a real man in front of you, looking down into your muddy eyes, emanating wealth and status, power and grandeur… admit it, Granger, none of those blundering brawny boys in your tower do anything for you, do they?” He wiggled his eyes suggestively, simply wanting to put her into disease so that he was in control later that evening.

Hermione was watching Draco’s face. She could tell it was false bravado and had a few ideas why he was putting on this show. Her body relaxed. She dropped her book bag on his feet, causing him to kick it away from them with a sore toe, and then raised her arms above her head.

She turned her head down so hair fell across her eyes, then looked back up at him through her locks, batting her lashes.  
“Malfoy… you’re right,” she said breathlessly. “None of the Gryffindors have the brains I require in a … play mate…” she giggled, unsure if she had giggled enticingly or simply made herself look the fool, but she persevered regardless. “The Ravenclaw boys don’t have the cunning I need… and Huflepuff, let’s just say they believe in free love and I don’t particularly like sharing…” She reached down and stroked his cheek admiring the blush she had brought out in his pale complexion.

“Fuck, Granger, hands off. Don’t stain me.” He stepped back immediately, his face flustered and his smirk replaced by confusion. He opened his mouth but at that moment Slughorn bustled by and beckoned them both to follow.

“Children, children, come now. It seems that there was a bit of an incident on the Quidditch pitch this morning between Gryffindor and Slytherin, your Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff classmates were watching and are now assisting taking the team members to the hospital wing so today’s class will be just the three of us!” Slughorn clapped looking delighted. “I have been wanting to show my 7th years a new potion but, well, not all of you have yet mastered the 7th year basics, with the two of you, the Ravenclaw girl and the Hufflepuff boy being the only truly adept participants… well, until Harry tires of his obsession with the little Weasley that is… So! Having said that, today the three of us will be working on a potion which allows one to drink it and feel numb to the effects of the Cruciatus curse for one month after ingestion! Yes, yes, an excellent potion, an extremely rare recipe, handed to Dumbledore from the creator himself before he passed on a few years ago, Nikolia Flamell, Nicholas Flamer, along those lines…? Yes, many years ago, but we’ve only just been able to find the last of the necessary ingredients, the Golden Fleece, yes, obviously this will be tricky…” Slughorn continued muttering to himself as he waved his wand at the blackboard and then at the ingredients cupboard.

“And the two of you will be required to come back to check on it three nights prior to, the night of, and three nights after the next Full Moon. I think that is everything. You may begin! I will be grading papers if you require my attention call out.”

Draco’s head snapped up. To numb himself of the effects of the cruciatus curse would be life changing. Then the only threats Voldemort would hold over him would be his and his mother’s life rather than immeasurable physical and psychological agony. He supposed the Dark Lord would also threaten his father but Draco had long since decided to do away with Lucius if he could at any given point so perhaps Voldemort could do him an unintentional favour. He could even… well, if he chose to, he could even brew it up and give it to the less annoying Order members… He looked sideways at Granger. She was smiling as she was taking down the recipe word by word, he could tell she was thinking the same thing. She beckoned Draco closer.

“Seeing as you’ve asked for my help, I figured if we do this together it will give us a better chance of creating one perfect batch rather than attempting two slightly less than perfect batches… we need precision, we need timing, we need….” And she was rattling off a list of ingredients. Draco scribbled them down and sighed as he knew she expected him to do the heavy lifting. He went into the storage cupboards muttering under his breath as he searched for gillyweed, valerian, heart of mandragora, cutting precisely two square inches from the Golden Fleece with his wand, and finally locating crushed fairy wings and unicorn horn up the back. As he was leaving Draco saw a box marked “antidote” and looked inside to see shrivelled misshapen rock like objects. Something Snape had said many years back triggered in Draco’s mind and he pocketed three of them before he could second guess himself. 

“No! Draco, it needs to be stirred as thus!” Hermione was becoming distraught at the idea that they may somehow screw this potion up, it was too important and although she wanted Draco to help so he could learn, she also didn’t trust his capabilities and so kept taking over.   
“Granger, do you want to fucking do this yourself?”

“Well, Malfoy, as you identified, retrieved and prepped the ingredients, technically we have so far done about half and half of the work so be quiet and let me concentrate on getting this part right.”

She leaned forwards to continue her excruciatingly slow stirring, thrice clock wise, twice anticlockwise, taking precisely 10 seconds to complete a round in the cauldron for each stir. 

Draco was becoming restless. Potions was not his favourite now that Snape was gone, and he could think of a dozen things he’d rather be doing… his mind wandered to the common room where the Greengrass sisters would undoubtedly be sitting, giggling, flicking their golden hair, potentially Parkinson had had an early morning drink and was coercing Zabini into playing strip poker again, Draco could be talking to the two lovely-to-look-at sisters, he could be goading Zabini along with Parkinson, he could be alone on the Quidditch pitch, he could be in his room writing – no. He couldn’t of any of that. He had responsibilities to both the Death Eaters and the Order, his free time was no longer his. He sighed as he remembered what he was doing and looked back over at Granger now leaning forwards to sprinkle unicorn horn dust into the perfect lilac coloured potion… forwards, her hair escaping her pony tail…

“Oh, fuck!” Draco whispered vacating his seat immediately. He grabbed Granger by the waist and pulled her back so suddenly that they both fell, him onto his back, she sitting upon his lap facing forwards, her hair spilling onto his face and into mouth.

“What, in the name of Merlin’s saggy left testicle, did you just do, Malfoy!” She hissed so Slughorn wouldn’t hear, borrowing one of Ron’s favourite expletives. “Look at the horrendous waste of unicorn’s horn!” She waved her wand and it all flew back into the mortar. 

“Yeah, I’m the one who fucked that up, Granger” Draco spat sarcastically. “Watch your feral mane, it was coming loose and about to touch the potion. A bit of a bump and some spillage is worth saving that potion, I would have thought, anyway…” He stared at her until she turned pink.

“Well, I, it just, you know you can’t –"

“Yeah, you’re welcome!” Draco said before leaning forward to sprinkle the unicorn horn into the perfect potion while Hermione retied her hair, this time in a tight braid. It showed off her features much more than a loose ponytail, or leaving it down did. Draco watched as she gathered the last of the ingredients they needed for that morning. As she dropped in the essence of valerian Draco couldn’t help but think back to on the floor, underneath her. She had wiggled, and he, as a man, had felt his body responding. When his arms had been around her he couldn’t help but notice that her body was both firm yet pliable. He knew she didn’t play any sports preferring to spend time studying, so he hadn’t expected to feel the muscles moving under his grip, nor the strength that she used to propel herself off of him. He watched her bend forward to retrieve a small notebook from her backpack and noticed how round her behind was. It was a real arse. Not like the flat ended Parkinson or the magicked plush ones of the Greengrass sisters whose mother, a model, had taught them to use body modification spells at an early age. It was nicer than the Ravenclaw Quidditch players firm behind… this was the arse of a woman. 

Draco wanted to reach out and touch her, to see how it felt, just for comparison, not because he wanted her, just to see how it felt, if he could squeeze it, bite it, slap it, mount it…

“Malfoy? Are you ok? Did I hurt you when we fell?” Granger had turned and was looking at him, his hands were outstretched in mid-air grasping nothing, his face curious and eyes wide. 

“I’m fine, Granger, this looks to be ready to stew until three nights before the Full Moon. Let’s just get it in the cooler cupboard to sit and get back upstairs.”

Hermione nodded and watched as he used his wand to levitate the cauldron towards the cooler cupboard next to Slughorn’s desk while she cleared their table and packed her bag. She slipped a small notebook into the front pocket of Malfoy’s backpack and then left the room seeing no need to wait for him as, after all, they weren’t friends. 

***

Hermione met Harry and Ron on their way into the Gryffindor common room shortly after leaving the dungeons. Ginny was fawning over Harry’s already cleared up bruises and Lavender was attempting to kiss Ron’s already mended ribs. The display of affection was sickening to Hermione. They had both been healed almost immediately and neither were showing any symptoms of pain or concussion. Harry told her that the match was still to take place and he was so excited for her to come and watch as after the brawl this morning both Gryffindor and Slytherin were out for blood.

Hermione smiled and nodded as her friends chatted away near her, she attempted to respond however the slightly curious eyes of Ginny told Hermione she was not putting on a convincing display. After the second scrutinising stare Hermione decided to leave a red herring and dismantle the mystery that she could feel growing in Ginny’s mind – a mystery she would surely share with Harry if Hermione were to leave the table at that moment like shed been considering.

“I’m glad the match will go ahead, however unfortunately I won’t be able to come along and watch. As everyone except Malfoy and I were in the hospital wing this morning Slughorn paired us up and has given us strict instructions on the successful creation and completion of an extremely important potion which will benefit the Order against the Death Eaters. I will be continuing with my potion preparation and maintenance this evening and most likely every second or third evening until it is ready.”  
Ginny looked up, “Ohhh, I was wondering why your mind seemed preoccupied –no wonder, you’re mentally preparing yourself to spend evenings with Malfoy. Yelch!

Harry turned to Hermione. “Hermione, he is dangerous. Do you want me, or Ron, or –“  
Hermione interrupted his suggestion before it had left his lips. “Harry, you know very well that Malfoy is,” She looked around to make sure they couldn’t be overheard, “Now part of the Order. You know his dangerous side is now aimed towards Voldemort. He wishes for this potion to be made as much as I do – the potion will prevent the drinker from feeling the effects of the cruiciatus curse for up to a month. I could see it in his face, Harry, this potion will protect him and his mother in case… in case…” She stopped. She didn’t know why but the thought of Draco being tortured was suddenly a very disturbing image. Her stomach churned and her chest constricted.

“In case he’s caught…” Harry finished. He was nodding and looking into Hermione’s face without seeing her. “Ok, yeah, I can understand that. You really believe he wants it enough to not mess with you, and to just let you get on with it?”  
“He’s not Hermione, but he’s fairly decent in classes I hear. He can probably really help her with the potion, and if this could help his mother why would he sabotage it?” Interjected Ginny.

“She’s right, Harry, Draco isn’t inept. He’s actually the second best in our potion class.” Hermione added.

“And we’re sitting with number one!” Harry patted her hand before leaning back in his chair. “I still wish you could come and see the game.” His eyes drifted towards the window and Hermione knew she had placated him and put Ginny off her scent – for the time being.  
“If there is time I’ll come down and watch you catch the snitch!”

“Don’t lead me on, Hermione, or I’ll keep feinting till I see your bushy head in the red stands!” 

Ginny and Hermione laughed, Ginny punched Harry lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t you dare, Potter! We want this cup!”   
Feeling slightly more at ease Hermione said her goodbyes and went upstairs to her dormitory. She lay down flat on her bed and took out a small notebook from her backpack. She pointed her wand at the drapes hanging around her bed and in a moment they had slid shut and had magically locked so no one aside from herself could enter or exit.

She placed the tip of her wand on the cover of her notebook and then took out her quill.

“Draco. My friends know that you and I are working on the Slughorn potion project together. It was the only way to stop them from spying on me when I come to meet you. We won’t be able to schedule every meeting at the same time as Quidditch and they would have cottoned on eventually. I shall see you in the 7th floor corridor this evening. H.”

She stared impatiently at her notebook. She had placed a spell on both notebooks so that whatever she wrote in hers would show up in his and vice versa. She had protected them with an incognito spell rendering the words invisible to anyone but the two of them. By touching her wand tip to the cover she had made Draco’s vibrate; he should have noticed his bag twitching and found it by now.

Hermione began playing with her hair as she waited. She felt nervous, like his reply actually mattered to her. She scoffed at herself. Just because Draco was now on their team didn’t make him any less… Draco… his heart still beat with Malfoy blood – although there was Black blood in there too, and Tonks wasn’t bad, and her parents were both lovely. Sirius hadn’t been bad, in fact he had fought the Death Eaters to his death. Regulus had found his way back from the edge of evil and had been the first to understand what Voldemort had done and the first to attempt to destroy his immortality. Even Narcissa had defected from Voldemorts ranks. Perhaps what she was feeling was sympathy? Draco had been born into a position and he had been taught from birth that the way of the Death Eaters was the only way. Perhaps, if his heart could truly turn, if he could understand his past errors, if he could really help the Order… perhaps Draco Malfoy would be … and she could be…

The notebook in her hands vibrated and Hermione levitated off the bed in fright. Her mind had been downstairs in the dungeon passageway, Draco’s body close to hers, his arms on either side of her, her fingers against his cheek, the flush on his face, the warmth of his breath and the lingering spearmint after his words had silenced… 

“Granger, you really are a clever little witch, I didn’t even notice you shoving this thing in my bag. You’d make a good pick-pocket. It really is too bad your blood is filthy, with smarts and cunning like yours you’d do well in green. See you tonight. D.”

That was it? THAT was his response? She had been hoping he would be pissed that Harry and Ron knew… why would she hope that? Because then I’d get to calm him down, we’d have to talk about it, he’d still be sending me messages. Hermione rolled onto her stomach and put her face into the pillow. Why is this happening? Because she now knew what was going on inside her. She could no longer pretend that she stared at Malfoy simply due to his aesthetics, could no longer lie to herself and say it was simply a physical curiosity. She had to stop trying to convince herself that this attraction was only skin deep.

Hermione liked Draco Malfoy.

Perhaps it was his intelligence – he’d been right in the assumption that Gryffindor boys were more brawn than brains. As much as she loved her friends and fellow house mates she struggled daily in an attempt to express herself in a way that was both authentic yet easy for her friends to understand. When she presented as she was without dumbing herself down she saw Ron’s eyes clouding over and Harry turning pink with effort to comprehend her words.  
Potentially it was his internal conflict. Hermione related to the battle within as she came from muggle parents and had to fight an urge to succumb to the name calling of Mudblood, the perceived lower social status and to build up her own confidence to be able to meet each day face on. There was also the struggle within regarding her parents. Both Muggles and Muggleborns, with no hint of magic on either side for at least three generations. It was hard to connect with them on common ground, they only knew of the Wizarding World what she chose to share with them and she had not never felt any level of true acceptance before her eleventh birthday, always knowing there was something different about herself preventing her from ingratiating herself within muggle social circles. 

Hermione could understand and empathise with Draco’s need to care for himself and his mother now that they were both turn cloaks. The Malfoy’s would be at the top of Voldemort’s list if he were to find out both Draco and Narcissa had defected, and Hermione’s parents, muggles who gave birth to the girl who so often assisted Harry Potter, and now the defected Draco Malfoy, would be next as Hermione knew Voldemort would want her alive to feel the pain of losing her family before he finished her off. She felt a violent agony within her chest and sat up sucking in air. 

Regardless of her feelings, or her attraction, towards Malfoy, she had to keep her head on straight, she had to make sure this potion was brewed correctly and she knew it was imperative that she ignore his sarcasm, his wit, his movements, his eyes so that she could concentrate. 

A dalliance with Draco Malfoy may be a wonderful fantasy but Hermione understood that the greater good came before personal pleasure and as such as made a quiet vow to herself then and there that she would bury this feeling, place it in a box within her mind, place that box in a cupboard, lock that cupboard, close to the door to the room the cupboard was in and then burn down the entire house if she had to. If she still felt … tenderly?... towards Malfoy after the war was won then perhaps, at that point in time, with everyone aware he was now on the side of the Order and all the Death Eaters vanquished, maybe then she could follow this fantasy down the rabbit hole and enjoy a moment of madness… but until then she had to continue fighting, continue surviving, continue helping Harry destroy the Horcruxes and end the Wizarding War.

The defeat of Voldemort may be Harry’s destiny, but Hermione knew he would only achieve it with her help, her fate was tied to his and this meant she was also tied to Voldemort. Hermione shuddered at the thought and left her dorm to clear her mind before her afternoon Charms class and her evening ahead with Malfoy.

***

Draco was unsettled. Granger had managed to undo his theivospell on his backpack and slide her filthy fingers inside his front pocket. He was unsure if he was more annoyed or impressed with her. Maybe it hadn’t gone off because she was putting something in rather than removing one of his belongings. Maybe he hadn’t ever considered the possibility of a mudblood getting near his possessions and therefore the spell wouldn’t work against her? Maybe she really and truly was the most intelligent witch of their generation. Regardless, the notepad had worked seemingly well and he understood she would have placed numerous protective enchantments on the cover, and within the pages so he was comfortable using it as a direct tool for communication with her.

Moreso than the invasion of his dufflebag, Draco was frustrated that Hermione had shared with Potter and the Weasel. He understood her reasoning, in fact if he looked at it with a clear and logical head he could see it was their best option; this would stop Potter and Weasel attempting to follow him to find out why he and Hermione were disappearing at the same time, it would take more suspicion off of him if Potter and weasel knew Granger was “keeping an eye on him” so to say, and it would allow his new status of defected Death Eater more credibility as Granger was a big part of the inside circle in the Order and Draco was aware that many fighting on the side of the Order had doubts that he and his mother had truly betrayed their previous Master. 

None of that mattered in this moment, however, as Draco felt a deflation in his chest, the air rushing out of his secrecy balloon. He had enjoyed the idea of meeting with Granger unbeknownst to others, in the dark, in the dungeons, without even the moon to witness his eyes lingering on her body as she moved about the room. This fantasy had been playing in his mind all morning and he knew that was all it was – a fantasy. Draco Malfoy may now be a member of the Order of the Phoenix, an irreplaceable replacement for the original turncloak, a Death Eater who couldn’t hold onto his convictions and who fell fast from the idea of a Pure Blood World when Voldemort had begun threatening his mother… but he was still a Malfoy, still one of the 28, still a man of high status and a man who would one day have to marry a member of one of the 27 remaining pure families to continue the line of Malfoy with magic blood, with class, with dignity. He’d never be able to hold his head up high again if he actually touched the Mudblood. Sure, she was smart, and pretty, and her body was… well, it was more than Malfoy had ever dreamt a woman could be as far as he could tell from her figure, her movements and the brief touches he’d been allowed in a moment of chaos. It didn’t make a difference, his father would detest him, disown him, cast him out…   
Draco laughed into the emptiness surrounding him. His father never would. He too badly wanted to pass on the Malfoy name and with no son he would never achieve his goal of continuing his blood line. Lucious would rather obliviate Draco and offer the Mudblood to the Dark Lord to deal with. 

Draco was suddenly overcome with tension, it began in his stomach and worked its way up and down his body until every extremity was shaking and his eyes were merely slits he could barely see through. Neither his father nor the Dark Lord would ever hurt her. Draco would see to that. He needed her alive and well and happy, because he needed her brains and her tenacity, to help him. That was all. He was tense because of the idea of his assistant being torn from him, not Granger herself simply the role she had recently taken on in his life. That was all. Draco took a deep breath and his hands unclenched. 

He picked up his notebook and saw she had not responded. He hadn’t been expecting one, it just would have been polite is all. That really shows the colour of her blood, her class… doesn’t even keep up with the niceties required between distinguished adults, he thought, and sighed. He picked up his pen but there was a knock on his bedroom door. He stuffed the notebook into his pocket and used his wand to unlock his door from his bed.

Pansy poked her head in.

“Hey Draco, a few of us are going to begin a game of Strip Chess, you haven’t joined us in so long… we miss you…” She wiggled her eyebrows and Draco took this to mean that the girls missed seeing him topless. He was too smart to lose anything more than his shirt. He didn’t understand why Pansy kept playing, she would lose her cloak on her first go and each turn after that would increase the pile of her discarded garments. Maybe she just liked the attention. She was right, though, he’d been so busy planning and plotting and sneaking off to Order meetings that his appearances in the Slytherin common room were dwindling and he needed to cast away any growing suspicion. 

Draco smiled salaciously at Pansy who instantly blushed from her neck up. Draco was aware, from stolen moments together, moments he had been trying to lose himself in something, someone, anything other than his mission or his turmoil, that her blush actually began on her belly and moved up like fire, rising until her stomach, breasts, shoulders, neck and face were all a rosy pink. He stood slowly, stretching his arms above his head and, knowing she was still watching, began unbuttoning his shirt.

He undid the top button and spread the collar, running his fingers across the smooth, pale and strong muscles peeking through. His fingers moved down to the next one and he spread the gap wider. He heard her gasp softly and looked up to meet her eyes making sure she kept her gaze locked on his as his hands wandered further down to the third button. He undid this one excruciating slow, a movement that normally takes two seconds drawn out over half a minute. Pansy’s chest was rising and falling as she gulped in the air around her. He stopped there and ran his hands down over the material, sliding down each side, his nipples hardening and clawing at the fabric as his fingers pressed against them firmly. His hands reached his pants and he slid them down gently, very carefully not touching his growing member. He beckoned her forward and she stumbled as she moved into the room, turning to close the door behind her.

“Uh-uh-uh, Miss Parkinson, you leave that open, we’ll be joining the others in a minute. It felt unfair to you ladies to have you see this, and only this, in games past. I thought it may be a treat for you if I came with a disadvantage… if I’m not wearing a shirt I’ll have to take something else off, won’t I…”

“Ohh, ummm…” Pansy managed before giggling into her cupped hands. “Draco, you don’t need to give us an advantage, we manage fine by ourselves…”

“Well, if you say so…” His hands moved to begin doing up the fourth button when she finally made a move and reached forwards to stop him.

“No, Draco, you were right, you’re always right, you should, you should definitely take it off and give us the handicap.”

“Come on then, Parkinson, get over here and finish this for me.”

She smiled widely and moved forwards, her confidence regaining strength now that she knew he wanted her to touch him. She looked up into his eyes and heard him muttering something before turning his wand at her face. She felt a gentle tingle pass over her but nothing more and so she continued slowly divesting Draco of the fine green silk shirt he usually strutted around the Slytherin common room in.  
Draco looked down at the face in front of him, a moment ago Pansy Parkinson, now Hermione Granger – only he would see this illusion and it wouldn’t last long, it was a complex spell which required more focus than he currently had. He had simply wanted to feel what it would be like to touch the mudblood and this was the only way he could come up with without actually touching the mudblood.

Pansy’s eyes were now a soft caramel colour, golden flecks circled the pupil and a dash of green was visible on the edge of her left iris. Her cheekbones were higher, a slight spattering of the palest freckles upon them – Draco had never been this close to Granger in reality, he’d never known she had freckles. Pansy’s mouth was fuller on the bottom and her top lip was more curved and rounded not as pointed or thin. Her teeth had grown slightly and her chin was angular yet feminine. Her forehead was smooth until she furrowed her eyebrows in concentration creating gentle ripples – an expression Draco was used to seeing when Granger was working on essays in class or stirring her cauldron in the dungeons. Pansy’s hands had freed his chest and were now running themselves across his torso, stopping to feel his chiselled stomach, to gently pinch his nipples, to breathe into his neck. He half closed his eyes. With this arousal, this illusion and her hands on him Draco could almost pretend it was Grange touching him and he fucking liked it. At the thought of her his cock stiffened immediately, not the slow and steady rhythm it normally favoured but instead a gigantic flush of blood pumped into his member creating an illicit pain as he pulsed against the restraining briefs. Pansy saw him shift and looked down, eyes widening in surprise as she had never seen him at full excitement before.

She reached to caress him and Draco relaxed into her touch as her fingers grazed the material above his cock, he felt his hardness dribbling into his shorts and he thrust his hips forward to create a firmer pressure on his shaft. She continued rubbing, her caramel eyes staring into his, her mouth parting, her beautiful freckle covered face coming close to his, their lips about to meet as she breathed his name out… Oh, Hermione, he thought… 

“Oh, Draco!” came Pansy’s voice and Draco pulled back and stepped away becoming softer as the seconds went by.  
Hermione looked at him in confusion and spoke with Pany’s voice…

“What’s wrong, Draco?”

“Nothing, Pansy, but we better get out in the common room if we want to make the game.”

He walked by her, dropping his undone shirt on his bed and then turned and beckoned her forward. He walked by her side and allowed her to hold his hand until they sat down on opposite sides of the table littered with chess pieces.

Zabini began talking … “You all know how we do this, but I’ll explain again in case some of you” he looked at Goyle, “Still don’t understand this simple game. Boys versus girl, four a team, each player takes a turn in making a move – if you had the last move and the opposition takes your piece you must take off an item of clothing. No scarves, gloves, hats or snow cloaks are to be worn when we begin, only pants, shirts, dresses, socks, undergarments and school robes. We play until one team achieves Check Mate, or Stale Mate, or until one side is completely divested. Everyone understand?” Zabini’s eyes were still on Goyle’s face, Goyle looked like he was trying with utmost difficulty to comprehend Zabini’s speech but he nodded anyway and Zabini sighed, Draco knew that Zabini would have to repeat his speech at least twice more during the game.

Draco took the first turn for the boy’s team moving a pawn into the open and then leaning back to watch the escapades unfold before him. 

***

~ Godric’s Hollow Many Years Earlier ~

“Albus, come back here! This isn’t finished! I don’t care for your new boyfriend or your ideas, you’re neglecting our sister and she needs you, Albus, we both do!” 

Albus turned, his thin ginger beard waving in the breeze as the door stood open behind him. His eyes bore into his brothers, so like his own in colour and depth of passion, yet so distant, so foreign. 

“When will you understand that everything we are doing is for Ariana? I am going to give her a better life, a better life for all of us.”   
“For her? FOR HER? You bloody ignorant fool, if you can’t see that he’s using you as a pawn in his own imbecilic and malevolent game then you’re as stupid as the goats out back! How dare you attempt to say that your absence, your neglect, your new way of thinking is for her? If you thought about her, if you cared for her, if you loved her you would be here with her, not out there with him!”

Albus took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He had never enjoyed conflict and fighting with family was always more difficult as you each have ammunition on the other that others do not, each can prepare to launch the final missile which will irreparably damage the relationship. Albus truly loved his brother however his slow mind, his dull wit, his acceptance at staying in Godric’s Hollow for the rest of his life was deeply disappointing to Albus. He tried to never show his disillusionment with his family… Gellert was the only one who understood him, the only one who knew him. Gellert was waiting for him and Albus had no more time left to fight.

“Aberforth, please, look at me. I am your bother, I am the head of this household and I am the one who has the task of keeping both you and Ariana safe. No harm will come to either of you again, ever. Please, try, try for me, try to understand Aberfoth, this is for the greater good…”

Aberforth’s eyes bored into Albus’s own until Albus had to look away. He felt shamed and he knew that there may be casualties along the way however he also knew that he would never allow anyone to hurt his sister again. He turned and left, closing the door behind him and as he walked away from his brother’s righteous, unflinching stare.


	3. Lessons on Courtesy

Chapter 3

~ Present Day ~

It was early evening and Hermione was getting ready to meet Draco in the Room of Requirement. The Gryffindor common room was empty, the Quidditch team had long since departed to warm up, shower and robe for the match, and many of their fellow housemates had wandered down to the stands to find seats and get comfortable before the whistle blew signalling the release of the balls.

“I don’t think we’ll be needing Herbology or Arithmancy, Draco seems to be holding his own in both of those classes…” Hermione muttered to herself as she pulled the books out of her bag so make more room for books she would require… require… “What am I doing? The Room of Requirement will have any and all books we may need and will be able to produce any more that we think of during our study session.” Hermione sighed and blew a lock of her bushy brown hair out of her eyes as she bent forwards to repack her bag and began the incline to her dorm room to drop it off. She pulled her special notebook and her favourite always-inked quill from the front pocket, sent Draco a short list of things she thought would beneficial to begin with, and then placed both in her inside robe pocket before checking herself quickly in the mirror for food in her teeth or ink stains on her hands or face and descended back to the common room.   
Hermione walked into the common room to find Ron sitting in one of the chintz single seaters in front of the fire dressed in his Keeper attire and with his broomstick at his side.

“Ron, why are you not at the match?” Hermione asked as she strode purposefully to the fire to warm her hands up before her walk through the slightly chilled castle. 

“I couldn’t concentrate. Needed to come talk to you before the match. Hermione, do you really trust Malfoy?”

“Oh, Ron, don't be dimwitted, of course I don’t! However he IS working for Dumbledore and the Order now so any help I can give him can potentially benefit the resistance.”

“Yeah… I guess… Are you’re sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

“Ron, even if I did, which I don’t because I can take care of myself, you know as well as I do that if I were to show up to a tutoring session with Malfoy with you in tow he would simply turn the other way. Or is that your plan? To shadow me and scare off the only chance I have at having a closer look at Malfoy’s intentions?”

Ron’s face immediately began growing scarlet.

“No! I just don’t like the idea of you spending alone time with him!”

“And you’re positive this has only to do with my safety, right, Ron?” Hermione asked scathingly looking at Ron through slitted eyes.

“What are you saying, Hermione?”

“I’m saying that as you’re now back with Lavender it really shouldn’t matter to you who I spend time with whether that time is alone or with others, whether that time is helping someone with schoolwork or simply enjoying a sociable occasion. What I do with my time is only your business as far as it pertains to our missions from the Order, or our friendship – which, by the way, has felt rather strained as of late”

“Maybe if you didn’t hang around the likes of Malfoy we’d have more to say to each other!” Ron bellowed standing up quickly.

“Ron, I have spent precisely eleven minutes alone with Malfoy so far, outside of potions class while you and Harry and Ginny were getting into Merlin knows what sort of strife on the pitch. If you really are oh so concerned then stop acting like a brawny buffoon and be around when you should be!” Hermione turned to make her way to the common room door when she felt Ron’s fingers close around her arm halting her progress.

“Hermione, I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

“You should have thought about that before our first kiss, shouldn’t have you, Ron…” Hermione hissed at him. “We ended things because we wished to save our friendship, but if I had known then what I know now, that you can never truly move back into that friendship space with a person you have bared your soul to, I would have never allowed your lips to touch mine, nor any other part of you, Ron, your hands, your heart…” Hermione’s voice was low, deep and shaking as she fought to keep internal control. She had truly thought that the sting she had felt when she and Ron had ended had healed but although she knew she no longer loved him in a romantic way she couldn’t find her way back to loving him as a friend either, especially not with Lavender being there at his side, on his lap, attached to his face like a barnacle to a ship. They never had any time alone to reconnect or to begin mending the fracture their short lived romance had caused between them, and whenever they were alone, such as now, Ron seemed to look at her from a distant place as if his heart would not allow itself to pump in her presence. 

“Hermione… I… I’m sorry… hearing that out loud, you’re, you’re right.” Ron’s eyes were downcast and Hermione saw a small trickle from his left eye which he ignored as he raised his face. He opened his mouth and closed it again, opened it and coughed then closed it and continued looking at Hermione with a blank expression.

“It is fine, Ron. Truly. I know you were hurting, too, but we can’t just expect what we had to suddenly return.” 

Suddenly Ron was in front of her and his red hair was smoldering like the fire behind him and his eyes were intense and set upon hers with a singular focus and in that moment Hermione remembered why she had once thought she loved him. Ron’s face came closer and then his lips were on hers and their mouths were parting and he was pulling her closer and Hermione felt her heart break all over again because she now understood why Ron was here, it wasn’t about her safety, it wasn’t about their friendship, it was about his feelings and how they had never dwindled like hers had. 

Hermione allowed him to kiss her, she felt in her heart that this would be their last kiss, this was Ron’s way of attempting to push back into the light the love that they had lost, it was his own way of moving forwards and claiming his autonomy by taking her kiss, it was his way of saying goodbye and I loved you and I do love you but I know you no longer love me and thank you for the memories. Hermione allowed this kiss to linger and then she pulled back, still in his arms and looked up at him. He was breathing heavily and she could smell Butterbeer and pecan pie, his face was gentler than it had been in weeks when in close proximity to her and for the first time Hermione felt at ease with him. She smiled at him and he smiled at her before moving back and placing his broom over his shoulder.

“I should get back down there, the match is going to begin soon and I gotta, you know.” He made a blocking motion with his hands and Hermione laughed although she didn’t find it funny; she felt as though their exchange had begun putting their pieces back together and that she could now finally relax around him. 

“Good luck with the match, Ron!” Hermione said as they left the common room together.

“Good luck teaching Malfoy anything! Pffft, he’d probably take better instructions as a ferret…” Ron rolled his eyes and smirked as he began the descent towards the entrance hall whilst Hermione turned at the end of the corridor to make her way to the Room of Requirement giggling softly at the reminder of the fake Moody’s transfiguration of Malfoy years prior.

***

Hermione reached the spot on the wall on the 7th floor where the door to the room of requirement became visible. She turned on the spot and walked in front of the wall thrice thinking furiously I need study with Draco Malfoy, I need to study with Draco Malfoy, I need to study with Draco Malfoy. Nothing happened. Persistent she turned and began her pacing once more this time thinking I need access to Draco Malfoy’s study room, I need access to Draco Malfoy’s study room, I need access to Draco Malfoy’s study room. She looked up expectantly and was surprised when the wall was still simply stone. Determined Hermione began stalking herself again in front of the wall however before she could begin her new mantra Draco appeared at the end of the hall and made his way slowly up to her. He smirked when he saw that she had not yet been allowed access to his private lair.

“Maybe you weren’t the right choice for a tutor if you can’t even open the door to the study!” laughed Malfoy as he began pacing back and forwards in front of the wall. A few seconds later and the stones were changing form, a large wooden door in rich brown had appeared and swung open to grant access to the room within. Draco stepped back and bowed sarcastically, “ladies first.” He grinned as he swept his hand in front of him beckoning Hermione forwards. She stepped inside and was at once taken aback by the sheer size and grandeur of the room. 

The ceiling was high with exposed wooden beams and glass sections so that they could utilise the star gazing devices on the long table in the left hand corner. The room itself was long, the right wall was completely covered by bookshelves, the left hand side adorned with the Hogwarts banner, a mirror, a Foe Glass and a large display cabinet stocked with quills, parchment, a sneakoscope, vials, a pensieve, and an assortment of other interesting objects including a broken Time Tuner, jars of potions ingredients, a pewter cauldron and, of all things!, thought Hermione, a large copy of the Malfoy Mantra. She read it over carefully before continuing her stride round the room taking in the details. 

"Owe no one, compromise nothing, take what is yours and live free,  
The Malfoy name offers the world to those born unto our family tree.  
To be a Malfoy by name is an honour which can be revoked,  
The Malfoy’s are the mighty and we rule the townsfolk.  
A Malfoy is a Malfoy not just by name nor blood but by belief,  
Never worrying about the dilution of our heritage is a relief.  
Ideologies spanning back to the start of magical times,  
We’ve enough connections and gold to never worry about our crimes.  
We pay those we owe   
We live by this code  
We take what we’re owed."

In the centre sat a large square table big enough to easily accommodate eight to ten students, their books and studying accoutrements. In front of the bookshelves a bright fire crackled away two feet off the floor above the Slytherin coloured mandala rug and three couches were huddled around the fire each with throw cushions and blankets in a mixture of red and green. The room was warm, spacious and had everything Hermione could have wanted for tutoring sessions. Without looking at Draco she continued her inspection and began pausing at the bookshelves. Hermione could see some of her favourite titles, a mixture of academic, biographical, fiction and, more interestingly, a handful of muggle authors, which looked like first editions if the leather bound covers were anything to judge by. She walked along the bookshelves gently caressing some of the titles, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them; Hogwarts, A History; Quidditch Stars and their Lives off the Pitch; The Darkest Mark, History of the Darkest Wizards of the Ages; How to Train your House-Elf; The Hobbit, An Autobiographical Adventure; Magical Make-Overs; Dragon Nuggets and Hippogriff Burgers, a look at the Wide World of Wizarding Delicacies; Squib Simple, Magic Made Easy, and so many more that Hermione had never seen before either in muggle bookstores nor the Hogwarts library. She fingered the spine of a book titled “Defensive Curses Every Young Witch Should Learn” and sank into one of the couches, unconsciously pushing a pillow behind her back and bringing a rug over her legs which were drawn up underneath her.

“Ahem. Granger, you’re not here to read to yourself, you’re here to help me. I’ve compiled a list of the potions I wish to create before exams, a list of charms I need assistance with and a list of transfigurations I’ve been having trouble with, as well as a few points throughout history I don’t quite understand as yet, namely how the first translator of Trollish to English ever understood those freaks to begin with.” Draco stared at Hermione expectantly however she did not move nor give any indication she had heard him. 

“Granger! Did you listen to what I said, or did you sit under a floating candle at breakfast today and get wax in your ear? Come over here and help me!”

“I heard you, Malfoy.” Hermione responded softly, still half immersed in the book, “I am going to lay down some rules before we begin, the first one being you never speak to me like that again, I am not your House Elf, you will treat me with respect and if you want my attention you will ask for it rather than demanding it like a petulant child.” Draco stuck his tongue out at her behind her back as she continued, “Secondly, if you do happen to actually speak to your House-Elf like that you are to cease immediately. I’m aware your father acquired a new one since Dobby’s dismissal and I expect you treat her courteously and with respect.” Draco’s raised his eyebrows, he’d no idea his father had procured a new house elf, although it made sense as everything at home had been immaculate over the holidays and he knew his mother wouldn’t be caught dead polishing silverware no matter which side of the war she was on. “Thirdly, I expect you to pull your weight, Malfoy. I won’t be doing your assignments for you, I will help you understand some of the more difficult components to specific spell makings and give you books which will expand your understanding on our core subjects for you to read over within your own time. I also hold the right to amend these rules at any stage and to add or remove them as I please.”

“So, what you’re basically saying, is that you are completely in charge and I am but a simple slow Slytherin who will have to bend to your will if I want your help?” He blanched as he said this aloud; he’d never thought he’d be asking anyone for help, least of all Granger the Mudblood, his pride took a short blow as the words left his lips and he looked up to see her staring at him over the back of her shoulder from the couch. 

“Yes, Malfoy, that’s precisely what I’m saying.”

“And it would truly do no good if I were to offer you galleons? Or offer to pay for the inception of your SPEW program, or buy Potter a new broomstick or something?”

“Galleons don’t rule the world, Malfoy, information does, and those who are open minded enough to continue seeking new knowledge as they understand that one never stops learning.”

“How very Dumbledore of you. Shall we begin?”

“Yes; I’ve already sent your notebook a list of enchantments you need to read up on, I see all the books you’ll require are on this shelf, I’ll be right here if you have questions. You may begin.” With that Hermione stuck her head right back between the covers of the book in her hands and Draco was left standing somewhat dumbfounded at her idea of tutelage. He sighed loudly and began muttering under his breath knowing Hermione could hear every comparison he was making between her and a Dragon wrangler and he smiled when he heard her giggle softly. He pulled out his notebook and found that she had, indeed, sent him notes, it must have been when it had been in his bag as he’s not felt it vibrate. He vowed to keep it in his robe pocket from then on so he wouldn’t miss anything in future. He walked over to the shelves and located the three suggested books, went to the display cabinet and pulled out quills, ink wells and parchment then sat himself in the centre of the large table and opened to page 394.

Hermione was enjoying her book immensely, she was learning about a new spell called “Octomutante” a charm a person casts upon themselves or their children which will only ever activate at signs of sexual aggression on the point of penetration. The theory behind the spell was complex, in essence the charm would lay dormant, hopefully for the duration of the person’s life, however for those whom may find themselves at the hands of a sexual predator the charm would activate and turn the labia majora or testicular skin into tentacles which would capture the predator and hold them until the Magical Law Enforcement Officers arrived. The beauty of this spell was that it only activated upon malicious intent not by physical violence, to prevent the charm activating during passionate and rough consensual sex. Hermione thought this through and came to the conclusion that this was potentially one of the most intelligent self-defence spells she had ever come across. She went to the contents page and looked up the “Used Throughout” period to see if this spell had ever been activated and found that it had been at its inception. A Witch by the name of Wanda Wallikons had been working at an orphanage in Italy decades ago and suspected a Wizard of being inappropriate with some of the children in the orphanages care. She had then created the spell with the assistance of her husband, a member of the Magical Protection Squad by testing it on herself and exposing herself to a known sexual predator kept in custody at the Ministry of Magic at the time. It had worked and so she had then proceeded to cast the enchantment on all the children in her care. Two weeks went by and nothing happened and she began to feel relived; she had created a wonderful spell to prevent sexual abuse and had found that her suspicions had been false… until she received a Patronus from Salmanca, her assistant who was working at the orphanage that evening with the suspected child abuser, Frasklin. Frasklin had allegedly sneaked into the room of a ten year old boy and told him that to enter into the magical school next year he had to perform some secret tasks… at once the boy’s body had erupted into tentacles and held Frasklin against the wall as Frasklin screamed and the child cried for help. Salmanca had run in, magically bound Frasklin and reversed the enchantments effects on the child who then had his memory taken in a vial to show to the Magical Law Enforcement Squad. Frasklin had been sentenced to life in Azkaban and Salmanca had received a plaque in her name whilst Wanda had been offered the position of Head of Magical Child Protection, which she had turned down happy to have created such an effective enchantment and to continue looking after the kids in her care. 

Hermione put the book down with tears in her eyes thinking of how there had been no reports of child sexual abuse in the Wizarding World as long as she had been part of it and wondered if, perhaps, all parents knew of this spell and cast it upon their children at birth? That would leave muggleborns vulnerable however she could talk to Madam Pomfrey and potentially the school could host a day where anyone wishing to enchant this upon themselves could come to the healers office and learn from her. What an ingenious way of preventing horrific trauma and capturing predators.

Hermione was brought back into the room and away from her thoughts as her couch bounced and she felt a presence beside her. Draco had flopped on the couch right next to her and was leaning in with a book open to a page with miniscule writing.

“How, Granger, am I supposed to interpret these symbols if I cannot bloody see them?” Draco’s knee was pressing against hers and he held the book closely to her face to prove that these symbols were tiny indeed. Hermione glanced over her shoulder and saw exactly what she needed. 

“Come on, Malfoy.” She beckoned him over to the astronomy table and placed the book next to the telescope and picked up a magnifying glass. “Use this, it will all become much clearer.”

Draco took it from her and stared at her. 

“What, pray tell, do I do with this, Granger?” 

“Malfoy, you can’t be serious! Magnifying glasses are not strictly muggle inventions, I happen to know, from reading - ” She stopped as Draco burst into a fit of laughter.

“Your face, Granger, hahahaha, of course I know what this is, I just wanted to see how dumb you actually thought I was! As if a magnifying glass could ever have been a muggle invention anyway, it’s obviously a magical artefact that some squib or mudblood stole from us.” He bent down to begin reading the page and Hermione stepped forwards and slammed the book shut snatching the magnifying glass out of his hand.

“What do you think -”

“No, Malfoy, what do you think you’re doing? You sought me out and pleaded with me to come here and waste my precious time on you, yet you still apparently think that muggles, and by proxy, muggleborns, are not smart enough to create objects such as this?” She dangled the glass from her finger tips and it swayed precariously and slipping from her fingers and smashing against the stone floor. “I knew you were narrow minded but I honestly thought you may have changed slightly since coming over to the side of the Order, but no matter what we do, or where we end up you continue to treat me like scum. Well hear this Draco Malfoy, no more!” Hermione roared like the lion she was. “You will treat me with respect, you will treat me like a lady, in fact you will treat me as if I am a distant Malfoy relative whom your father has forbidden you from being rude towards, you will speak to me with no ill tones, you will never ever speak the word “Mudblood” again, nor will you ever pick on another muggle born in this school. That, and my favour, is the new price for my tutelage. And no, you may not leave, Malfoy,” Hermione continued as she saw him twitch and begin to move away from her, “You require my assistance and I will not fail the Oder because you are too cowardly to take up a challenge such as being polite to someone who is helping you. Do you understand me?” She glared at him, her face fierce, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving. 

Draco stared at her knowing that she had meant every word and Draco felt something akin to… respect… for the Granger girl. No one had ever spoken to him like this before, no one had ever offered to be rude to him for his benefit, no one had ever told him he couldn’t leave a situation and made him stay for his own good, in fact, looking back, no one had ever really offered him a guiding hand regardless of how bossy it may be… his father had bullied, his mother had doted and the teachers here, bar Snape, had all been frightened of his family. Hermione Granger, smartest witch in their year, pretty face, beautiful body, muddy blood, had just given him a mouthful to make sure he stayed in line to allow her to help him. Draco’s heart felt lighter as he pointed his wand towards the smashed magnifying glass and whispered “reparo”. She was still staring at him waiting for his response so he decided to give himself an out, instead of spilling his feelings and thoughts he offered her a challenge he knew she would win.

“Fine, Granger, tell me who did invent the magnifying glass and I will bend to your will.”

“In the 13th century a lecturer and scientist by the name of Professor Bacon - ”

“Bacon? Seriously, Granger?” Draco began laughing as Hermione continued.

“By the name of Professor BACON was researching mirrors and reflections and he found, through one of his experiments - ”

“Was he a muggle?”

“Yes, Malfoy, Bacon was a muggle.”

At this both of them began laughing and the tension eased. Hermione opened the book again and allowed Draco space to continue with his studying as she walked back to the couch. She lay back and closed her eyes feeling confused yet happy at the progress of their first sessions and thought, for the first time, that this arrangement may not be as unpleasant as she had initially foreseen. Draco was nice to look at and when he wasn’t being obnoxious or malicious he was actually rather laid back and amusing. She found herself trying to think of topics to broach so that they may continue talking however each seemed forced and she finally gave up and decided not to waste their session discussing frivolous topics and let him study. She leaned over and picked up her book and delved back in as Draco continued translating ancient runes using the muggle invention. The fire was crackling, Hermione was relaxed, Draco’s mind was nowhere near the Death Eaters of the Order and for the first time in years both felt a sense of peace. Hermione looked over to the table and saw that Draco was looking at her. They shared a smile before each went back to their respective books.

An hour later Hermione heard a cheer roaring through the door and stole a glance at the clock on the wall next to the entrance. It was almost eleven at night and both needed to hurry back to their Dorms. The Quidditch match was obviously over and they had to hurry if they were to beat curfew. Hermione turned to alert Draco to the time and found that instead of studying he had fallen forwards and closed his eyes, his breathing was steady and the magnifying glass was pushing against his cheek. She hurried over and tried to think of how best to wake him before finally poking his shoulder gently, and then with more force as he continued to murmur and sleep. She leaned in to him and hissed in his ear.

“Malfoy, wake up! It’s 10.56 and we have four minutes to get back to the common rooms!”

“Whuuuhh? Granger, shhhh, Granger, hush….” 

“MALFOY! WAKE UP!”

Draco sat up immediately his eyes alert and responsive as he took a deep breath. 

“Granger, what’s wrong?”

“We’re late, Malfoy, oh we are so late, McGonagall is going to be furious if I have to wake the Fat Lady after curfew, I’m going to have my library privileges revoked, I am going to have to hand in my pass for the restricted section, Oh Merlin, Malfoy, we have to run!”

With that Hermione dashed to her couch and picked up her notebook, quill, over-robe and scarf before rushing to the entrance and throwing Malfoy a glance over her shoulder.

“Why are you just sitting there, Malfoy?”

“We won’t make it, Granger, three minutes to get to our dorms? Laughable. Run if you must but I’d much rather relax.” He waved his hand at her and she knew he wasn’t being facetious but serious. She scrunched up her nose and pushed open the door beginning her dash to the Gryffindor Common room. She could hear the crowds ahead of her, their cheerful cries echoing down each hallway she ran through, attempting to catch the crows and be allowed access with the masses. She rounded the corner of the Gryffindor entrance and pushed her legs as fast as she could, the door was swinging shut and she tried to call out for someone to hold it but she was breathless from sprinting and no sound came out. She halted as the painting swang shut and the sounds of the Fat Lady snoring began. It was done. Curfew was in place and she had missed her entry into the dorms. Hermione pressed her back against the stone wall and sank down until her arms were around her legs and her face was in her knees. She cried silently knowing that the only option was to wake the Fat Lady and face the consequences, the revocation of rights and the look of disappointment on McGonagall’s face. She gave herself a few more moments to sit in self-misery before raising her head to go and wake the Fat Lady.

“About time, Granger. I thought you’d fallen asleep all huddled up on the floor. I was going to kick you in a minute.”

Draco was leaning against the wall opposite her.

“This is your fault, Malfoy! If not for you I’d have been at the match with everyone else and I’d have made it before curfew and I wouldn’t have to wake the Fat Lady and face all the consequences of breaking curfew!” Hermione wiped her cheek and stared at him stonily. She expected him to retort and was surprised when he instead held out his hand and offered to help her up. She took it and allowed him to pull her into a standing position so they were almost eye to eye. 

“You’re right, Granger, it is my fault. I don’t want you losing your library time or free time on account of me… more so I relealised that if you were caught breaking curfew I’d have no more access to your brains, therefore helping you helps me.”

“Right, Draco, well let me remind you that your father can’t buy our way out of this one! Dumbledore’s orders are law here!”

“True, Granger, True… but you only face consequences if you get caught.”

“Well obviously, Malfoy! Can you see any other way into the common room? Do you have a magic carpet outside that can fly me up to the window of the girls dorms?”

“Great idea, Granger, I’ll remember that the next time I’m feeling voyeuristic.”

“Gross, Malfoy.”

“You’ll only get in trouble if you wake her. She doesn’t count the students. She won’t know you’re missing.”  
“And where do you propose I go for the night, Malfoy? Do you have a special secret bedroom which only opens up when girls are locked out of… oh!”

“Caught on, have you?” He laughed. The girl may be book smart but she had no idea what it took to be truly cunning.   
They walked back to the Room of Requirement together and Draco stepped back, inspecting a nearby statue as he spoke softly.  
“Go on, Granger, I’ll let you conjure up the bedroom as you’re the one of us who desperately needs beauty sleep.” He felt himself go red as he lied, he didn’t think she needed any improvement but had to keep up his charade. He turned so she wouldn’t see him blush and he heard her steps as she paced and then a door opening. He span and entered behind her and this time it was Draco who was taken aback at the room they had entered.

“Granger… where are we?” The walls were painted a lavender colour, the room was tiny and cramped. Books littered the surface of every desk, table or floor space and a single bed with a plain white cover was shoved in the corner. A small white bear with a brown nose sat upon the plush pillow and photoframes held still images of a small girl and two adults. Upon closer inspection Draco realised he was looking at a younger Hermione. Her teeth were larger, her hair was well kept in braids and her freckles more prominent but it was undeniably Hermione. 

Hermione turned, shocked to see him in her family bedroom. 

“Draco!”

“What, Witch? You thought that I had somewhere else to go? Curfew is on lock down on all common rooms, remember. That bed is small but looks fairly snug.” He strode over and sat upon the doona picking up the bear and inspecting it. “Good condition. Well loved. I can feel the magic coming off of him – you practised before you knew you were a Witch, didn’t you?”

“Hands off!” Came a gruff voice and Draco dropped the bear the moment he realised it was speaking. 

“Granger, Granger, Granger, full of surprises, aren’t you…”

“It was an accident… and I just never fixed it.” She walked over to the bed and sat beside Malfoy as the bear climbed onto her lap and cuddles her tummy. “Hello Mr. Tummywhuckles!”

“Hello Hermione! How has school been? Are you home for good, now? Who is the grabby man?”

“Malfoy meet Beartiful Tummywhuckers, Mr. Tummywhuckers, meet Draco Malfoy.”

“How do?” Draco nodded at the bear who ignored him.

“I’m not really here, or you aren’t really with me, I conjured up my room to sleep in but I’m still at school.”

The bear nodded. “While you’re here come and get some rest. I’ll keep watch on that one.” He nodded towards Draco who smirked at the idea of being guarded by a teddy bear. A talking teddy bear. A magical talking teddy bear who seemed very focused on protecting Hermione. Draco’s face scrunched up.

“Mr. Tallywhacker you’re going to have to watch me closely as I’ll be sleeping right next to your little miss mummy here.”

“Draco, you’ll do no such thing!”

“Granger I wasn’t the one who conjured up a room with only a single bed. You know the saying, you;ve made your bed now it’s time for us both to climb in.”

“That’s incorrect, and you are not climbing in my bed.”

“Then we’d better leave this room and create a space that suits us both.”

“Ahem!” interjected the bear.

“Uhh, all three of us?” corrected Draco. The bear nodded curtly. 

Together they rose and left Hermione’s childhood bedroom and re-entered the seventh floor. 

“I’ll make the sleeping quarters this time, Granger.”

Draco turned and walked past her three times as the door appeared. 

This time they entered into the Gryffindor girls dorm, five beds, five bed stands, five trunks, a window at the end and five robes on hooks.

“Ahhh, I’ve always wondered… Granger, which is yours?”

Hermione pointed to the one under the window and moved towards it.

“Right, I’ll take this one.” Draco muttered sitting on the one closest to the exit.

“And I will patrol the night to save my Mistress from any threats within this reality or her waking dreams!” Declared the bear as he began a silent march to and fro, eyeing Draco off each time he strolled passed his bed. Draco rolled his eyes and called down to Hermione.

“When we wake up you leave first, we can’t be seen leaving this room together first thing in the morning. Granger? Granger?”

“She’s already asleep.” Said the bear as he once more made his way up the carpet between the beds.

“Right, well then, good night Mr. Tallywhacker.”

“Goodnight Dumbo.” The bear gave a mock salute and Draco pulled the curtains around the bed shut.

***

~ Godric’s Hollow, many years earlier ~

Albus’s heart was beating in his chest, palpitations so hard and fast that he was having trouble containing himself. He was about to proclaim his love to the only person who had ever made him feel more and less than real at the same time. To the person who had shown him a way out of the shadows of his family. To the person who he held most dearly. 

Gellert Grindelwald was on his way over and Albus was not nearly prepared. The table was set, the food was finished, the music was ambient and the incense matched the spread and wine perfectly. But his words… each time Albus had attempted to say aloud how he felt he stuttered, stumbled, spoke too fast or too softly. His nerves were, for the first time, getting the better of him. He played nervously with the thin wasp of beard growing on his chin and wound it round his fingers repetitively as he tried to think of the right phrasing. Gellert was not an everyday romantic, in fact Albus was unsure what Gellert’s love language was… he had attempted to fulfil all five requirements, he had offered services by creating the perfect room and the delectable feast, had a gift waiting for Gellert, had words, well he would have words when words came, he spent most of his time with Gellert and he only ever spoke nicely to him, of him, around him, Albus was perplexed at how Gellert had not picked up on the obvious signs Albus had been proclaiming nonverbally to him… however Albus did not care. All he wanted was to express himself and tonight was the night.

Albus was standing in front of the 7foot mirror in his hallway as the doorbell chimed. Ariana and Aberforth were out camping at the pond at the edge of their property and Albus knew they wouldn’t be home until morning. He didn’t want him brother catching sight of Gellert, Aberforth has bluntly told Albus his thoughts of Gellert and they were far from kind. Albus walked to the door and took two deep breaths before he heard a voice.

“Albus, why are you standing there behind a closed door? I can see your shadow covering the light under the door frame, open at once I am going to catch my death in this snow!”

Albus smiled and pulled the door wide.

“Gellert! Welcome, as always!”

“Welcome when Aberforth is not here… regardless, here I am! And look at you! A marvel in purple robes and silver cufflinks! What is the occasion, Albus, I would have dressed up had I known we would be having company!”

“You are the occasion, Gellert, and you are all the company I require.”

Gellert came close and placed a cool hand on Dumbledore’s warm cheek.

“And you I, my friend. And you I.” 

Their eyes met and held and Albus could feel that this was it, it was now, and he was about to open his mouth when Gellert pulled back.  
“To the foodstuffs! The empty void within named stomach requires filling!”

Albus sighed and followed Gellert down the hall.

Gellert entered the kitchen and looked around at the candles, the lace cloth, the gift perfectly wrapped, the rose petals floating around the room dancing in the smoke of the incense.

“Alby… Albus… this, why, it is magnificent! All this trouble for little old me? Alby, you shouldn’t have!” Gellert turned and beamed at 

Albus who blushed fiercely and scratched his neck attempting to pull his robe collar out to allow for easier breathing.

“Gellert, there is something I need to tell you.”

“You’re in love with me, Alby, don’t pretend I don’t know! I love you also dear boy! Now fetch me some mead or wine and let us begin this dance known as love!”


	4. Where are you now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short yet overflowing... This story is going to start getting dark so please be warned. I have tagged the appropriate trigger warnings as I wanted everyone to understand what may occur throughout, it's been rather gentle and smooth so far but their journey is about to take a dive into thunderstruck waters and a tsunami of ill intent is washing over the protagonists... 
> 
> Chapter five will be up in two days from now, I know, I know, and I am sorry, however it is soon to be my birthday and my partner has surprised me with a spa weekend so I won't have time to write! 
> 
> Please keep the messages coming, I thrive on your feedback, guys, leave a review if you feel inclined (keep it respectful!) this is a community and I love how we support one another.
> 
> ~ Autumn Lily ~

~ Chapter Four ~

Present Day

Hermione awoke with a weird feeling. The room looked as it always did, her bed was as fluffy as it was every other morning and grey light was streaming in from the window above her bed. Christmas was coming closer as it did every year, and her tummy did a summersault at the idea of yet another year passing and Voldemort still roaming free in his attempts to create his own twisted world. She had been procrastinating with her task, it was a horrid task and she had had to delve into numerous disgusting old books Dumbledore had lent her to ensure that she understood precisely what they would be soon be facing. Hermione and Dumbledore were the only ones she knew of who suspected that Voldemort was potentially not able to be murdered with a spell or a knife or even a gun. Dumbledore had asked Hermione to accompany him on a walk earlier that year. Voldemort had already fled to Tasmania with Bellatrix, his disappearance had not yet been noted by the Ministry nor the community. Dumbledore had spies outside of the wizarding world, an assortment of goblins, trolls, giants, and other magical animals plus a handful of Squibs and muggles who had been let in on the secret world surrounding them. It was one such muggle detective who had told Dumbledore he had suspected Voldemort’s handiwork in Australia; a large old mansion where a happy family of four had resided, all murdered. Doors and windows shut and locked from the inside, a snakeskin left in the upstairs study by the fireplace. The family had resembled the Riddles and after investigation Dumbledore had found that they were indeed related – Voldemort’s blood muggle family had an Australian chapter, a congregation of Riddle muggles prospering happily in the land down under. Dumbledore was uncertain how Voldemort had found them but it had made sense that Voldemort would make sure to stop by to continue purging his name and his history of anything he found distasteful on his way to Tasmania to meet with the Arctic Vampires to begin formulating a new plan. Dumbledore had shared this with Harry, Hermione and Ron who had all been stunned, honored and shocked that they alone were to know the secrets of the most notorious Dark Wizard of the ages.

The books contained some of the vilest magic Hermione had ever encountered, one book in particular seemed to be written in blood on pages made of human skin. Hermione had recoiled at the foul scent of this book and known it was evil simply by the energy radiating from within and had vowed to cast a protection spell on herself whenever she had to open it. Dumbledore had shared his secret with her… a secret that only she, Dumbledore, Harry, Ron and potentially one other defected Death Eater was aware of… R.A.B whom Hermione had found to be Regulus Black, Sirius’s younger brother, Voldemort had created Horcruxes. Not only had he split his soul to create an illusion of immortality, he had performed this ritual six times on purpose one once by mistake leaving his soul shredded in eight parts; his diary, a ring, a cup, something of Ravenclaw’s which they suspected could be the Diadem, the locket, Nagini, Harry and the fractured fragment left in the recreated vessel of Voldemort. Hermione now lived with the information that Harry Potter, her best friend, the hero of the wizarding world, was actually another object containing a fragment of the soul that was once Tom Marvolo Riddle, an orphaned child who grew up to become to notorious Lord Voldemort. 

Some mornings she could hold herself together. This morning was not one of them. Her research had been weighing heavily on her, she needed to understand how they were created and how they could be destroyed and reading into magic of this calibre, this most ancient of blood rites including murder, bloodletting and cannibalism was not Hermione’s usual reading material. It made her stomach churn whenever she thought of it… to think that Voldemort had somehow ingested a splash of Lily’s blood the night the curse rebounded and shattered his soul, the murder splitting what remained within him, one part fleeing and one part latching itself to the only viable candidate in the room… the infant, the boy who sat helpless in his mother’s limp arms crying out for her to wake up, to help him, to soothe him… it was more than Hermione could bare. She no longer cared if the other girls in the dorm could hear her, Hermione was tired of being strong and having to go through this alone, tired of being the only one who really understood the current social climate, she was absolutely exhausted of the image of baby Harry in her mind crying, crying, crying… Hermione rolled onto her stomach and put her face in her pillow and let out a wail, a gut wrenching moan which began in her stomach and made its way up to her heart and out her mouth. She cried loudly, messily and eventually she began to feel soothed. She wasn’t better, no, nothing but the end of this war could offer her peace, but she felt as though perhaps she could make it through another day, face lessons again, laugh with her friends about insignificant topics. 

“Granger?” Draco’s voice came through the distance and she felt a pressure on the bed she was in. It all came flooding back to her – she wasn’t actually in the Gryffindor girl dorms. She was in the Room of Requirement with Draco Malfoy… and, was it real? Mr. Tummywhuckles was climbing onto her bed to throw his arms around her and attempt to fight off her demons as he did when she was a child.

“Granger, what do you need? I haven’t heard anyone cry like that since… since my mother lost my brother…”

Hermione looked at Draco, he was sitting on the bed beside her leaning forwards, elbows on his knees a look of genuine concern shredding his handsome features as he wrestled with his own internal pain.

“I never knew you had a brother, Malfoy?”

“No one knows. My mother was four months pregnant. She had performed a spell to determine the sex so we could begin decorating the nursery. She was… not as young as she was when she had me, her body wasn’t as resilient… Voldemort, he was incensed when we failed last year… he took it out on my mother… at the end there was only her pale body and a pool of blood. We did everything we could, but it was too late. My father didn’t care. He has me to pass on the Malfoy name.” Malfoy looked down bitterly and scowled at his feet. “In fathers eyes the new son was only another pawn to place in front of Voldemort, another faceless Wizard to fight for ‘the cause’. My mother moved into the West Wing where we usually house guests. She hasn’t spoken much to my father since then. He thinks she is still mourning and will eventually move through this “womanly feeling”. This is why she accepted Dumbledore’s offer. She never liked the idea of fathers to have me join the ranks when he started showing signs of failure. She argued with him, “Draco is too young, he is too pure, he is our only son!” She hated him when he wouldn’t relent, wouldn’t bend to her pleading. He dragged me there, Hermione, I never wanted to go. I admit that in the past I had my failings as a human, I was – am – conceited and entitled, I was caught up with the idea of glory, but I never understood what this war meant until I was branded.” Draco lowered his head as he ripped back his sleeve and for the first time Hermione saw a Dark Mark up close. It was beautiful in its own way Voldemort was quite the artist… 

Hitler had been an artist, too, was all Hermione could think when she saw the mark begin to glow from the eyes. 

Draco pulled his sleeve back down to cover his brand. Hermione sat up in her fake bed and scooted forwards to be as close to him as she could without switching beds. She had learned more about Draco Malfoy in these eleven minutes than she had throughout their entire schooling history.

“Draco, I am so sorry. I have no idea how it feels to lose a sibling, nor to have to witness it happening to your mother… I wish, I wish I could do something to help you.”

He knelt next to her bed and took her hand, thoughts of withdrawing from his hold didn’t even cross Hermione’s mind as she met his eyes.

“You can. You are. Continue helping me, continue helping Potter. We WILL fight, Granger and we WILL win. There can be no other way. I have seen inside Voldemort’s mind – Bellatrix taught me some tricks before she fled, when he would look into my mind I would look back… the future, the future is murder, Granger. That’s all he knows. Death and destruction. His followers believe that he is creating a Pureblood utopia. They have no idea. Once the muggles are gone the mudbloods and squibs will be next. Then the blood traitors. Then finally it will only be the twenty eight. He has already begun a process with the vampires to create a new bloodline from his own heritage using only his magical side. He has been working on new magic, magic will allow him true immortality he plans on being turned but taking his magic with him when he transitions which has never happened before. He will then force the families remaining to mate and mate and mate, he will create a new race of pure blooded wizards and witches none of whom will have his powers; the loyal will be turned but not allowed their magic, the ones who are not turned will die and those remaining will pass on his legend. He will become a God of the new World Order. We can’t let this happen.”

Hermione’s stomach churned once more. She remembered some of the magical rituals she had read in the blood and skin book and a specific passage came to mind…

“Omnes Immortalales…” 

“Pardon, Granger? We're not all fluent in muggle”

“It's Latin Malfoy, it roughly translates to “Immortal beyond all” – that’s what the spell must be for! We have to go, we have to tell Dumbledore!”

Hermione was up and dressing in a flash, she was so distracted by her whirring thoughts and the familiarity of the Gryffindor girls room around them that she didn’t think twice about changing in front of Draco who stared wide eyed as she ripped off her dressing gown revealing a pair of bloomers, a white singlet and pink bra straps poking out from beneath. She riffled through the fake chest at the bottom of her bed and withdrew her warmest robes, socks, scarf and gloves. 

She eyed Draco impatiently who stared back.

“Granger, I don’t know what you are talking about nor what we will be discussing with Dumbledore but there is no way in Hades I am putting on a Gryffindor robe. I am content with my slept-in smelly slytherin robes, thank you.”

Hermione offered him a small smirk before shoving her bear into her robe pocket, grabbing Draco’s hand and dragging him from the dorms. They emerged from the Room of Requirement holding hands and she quickly began leading him towards Dumbledore’s office.  
“Granger.” Draco hissed. “Granger, STOP!” She halted and gave him an impatient stare.

“What, Malfoy?” Hermione questioned him with a look of frustration.

“I understand you were rushing however we cannot be seen holding hands walking around Hogwarts together. You are a smart witch, you understand how that will be interpreted.”

He withdrew his hand from her tightly clenched fingers and proceeded to walk at a quick pace towards the statue hiding the revolving staircase.

“Ariana!” Hermione whispered and the guard jumped aside allowing access. Draco looked at her sideways.  
“I thought it was always sweets?”

“This is the emergency password. It is only to be used when there is something important to discuss regarding the overall mission. It alerts Dumbledore, he’ll be in his office within thirty seconds if he is not here already.” Hermione then ran up the last few steps not waiting for Draco to catch up. 

When he entered the headmasters office Hermione was pacing back and forth in front of the pensieve muttering to herself. Draco took a seat in front of Dumbledore’s desk and crossed his left leg over his right knee. He folded his hands and started at the image of his great relative who was apparently fast asleep in his portrait. 

“And of course it makes sense, only someone as vile as Voldemort would consider it a viable option… genocide, though, why hadn’t we considered this a potential reality?” 

“Care to share, Granger?”

“I will as soon as Dumbledore arrives, I don’t wish to explain twice. You’ll have to catch up quickly, Malfoy there may be discussion regarding things you are not privy to, things you may not wish to hear regarding your old Master.”

“The Dark Lord was NEVER truly my Master, Granger.”

“I’m speaking of you father, Malfoy. I wish to apologise in advance for anything you hear during this conversation, just know it is all true and that it will help keep your mother safe.”

Draco felt his right eye twitch as he sat with a falsely impassive posture silently cursing the headmaster for not having arrived immediately. The seconds ticked by and the seconds turned into minutes. Hermione continued pacing looking nervously from the window to the fireplace to the doorway. Draco sat still, he knew how to hold his nerves inside. He was concentrating on Hermione’s last words… I’m speaking of your father, Malfoy… just know it is all true… it will help keep your mother safe…

The light outside the window began steadily rising and the grey gave way to a weak streams of sun as the clock continued ticking over. Hermione was wringing her hands and finally she could stay silent no longer.

“Where IS Dumbledore?”

As if on cue the fireplace lit up and the tall and handsome figure of Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared stepping out of the frame onto the carpet dusting off his robes.

“Miss Granger, we need Minerva immediately. Mr. Malfoy fetch your mother.”

“Kingsley? What - ”

“Go, Granger, and if you can find Potter and Weasley bring them here, too. Hurry, both of you.”

Draco looked towards Hermione and opened his mouth but she spoke over his silent words.

“You heard Kingsley, Malfoy, let’s go.” For the second time that day Hermione took Draco by the hand and led him from the room. They descended the stairs quietly and didn’t let go of each other’s hand until they stepped into hallway below. 

“I have to go to the Room of Requirement to use the untraceable fireplace to contact my mother… I, I can come with you to find Potter and Weasel and McGonngal if you need me to.”

“We’ll be faster if we split up.”  
Draco nodded but hesitated before moving.

“Granger…”

“I know, Draco… I know…”

Neither wanted to finish the sentence aloud. 

Dumbledore was nowhere to be found in the castle, the emergency password had not sent him back to his office and Shacklebolt had appeared within the school asking for the main resistance fighters. Dumbledore had either been captured – or killed.

***

~ Godric’s Hollow, many years earlier ~

“He can’t stay here, Albus! You don’t see what I see! He is pure evil, a snake in lions clothes! He detests Ariana and he bullies me.”  
“Aberforth, please, Gellert is simply set in his ways, things are different at Dumstrang, he has … alternative customes and beliefs back in his home country.”

“His home country? His home dimension! A demon in form of a man!”

“ABERFORTH, ENOUGH!” Albus’s voice rose quickly and thundered deeply through the room. His eyes were on fire and his wand was pointed directly at his brother’s face.

“You wouldn’t Albus! You wouldn’t curse your own brother to defend a monster…” Aberforth’s face was not as confident as his words and his eyes were focused on the tip of Dumbledore’s wand which was emitting small sparks out of emotional frustration.

“Don’t make me, Aberforth, just leave it alone, now. Leave me alone, leave Gellert be!”

“I can’t Albus! Not when he treats Ariana and I so!”

“Ariana!” Dumbledore called through the house. The brothers stared into each other’s angry twisted faces as their younger sister pranced slowly into the room, a ballerina in slow motion, delicate and fragile yet blossoming with optimism and joy.

“Alby!” She walked between the brothers without seeing their contorted features or raised wands and wound her arms around Albus. 

“Alby, I dreamt of mama last night, you were there again, and the goats and the butterflies and the wrackspurts… I could fly, Alby, and I was floating over a rainbow of flowers which turned into snakes with Gelly’s beautiful eyes, and I could see everything through his eyes and I was a snake and I a winged seal but I was most of all a cloud raining down on everything!” Albus ran his long fingers through his sister’s hair without taking his eyes off his brother.

“Ariana, our brother tells me Gellert has been rude to you. Please describe his behaviour to me.”

“Oh Albus, it was awful! HE took my flowers from me and he grew them and he they were too big to give to the fairies in the garden and then I dropped one and the petals fell off and it made me cry… but then Aberforth left to find me new roses and Gellert took my tears in a vial and he told me that I was the secret to everything, Alby! What secret am I, Alby? I’m no longer Mumm’s secret, am I mystery, Alby? Am I a ghost, an apparition, a hazy figure in the foggy light of new morning?”

Ariana unwound herself from her brother and walked towards the window.

“I can feel him, Alby, he will be here soon.” She sank to her knees and stared out of the window without blinking.

“He? Ariana? Gellert?” Aberforth’s voice was shaking.

“I can feel him, Abby, he will be here soon. I can feel him. He is inside me.”

“Ariana, what do you mean by that, he is inside you?”

At that moment the front door reverberated with the loud sound of a fist hammering on the wood. The three siblings looked between each other and then Ariana fainted. Aberforth threw down his wand and pushed Albus out of the way as he ran to his sister.

“Ariana! Albus, help me!”

“Alby! Let me in good fellow! I’ll catch my death out here!”

“Albus, no, please, no, please. help me - help HER!” Aberforth implored his brother.

Albus looked between the door and the young girl on the floor before pointing his wand at his sister and levitating her towards her bed in the next room. Aberforth went with Ariana and shut the door behind them. Albus walked to the front entrance and stood behind the closed door, he leaned forward with his forehead against the wood and sighed deeply with his eyes closed. His brother was right. He could deny it no longer. He loved a man who had a monster within him. 

“Albus! I can feel you there, you are within me. Open the door and allow me entry my love!”

Ariana’s words were floating through Albus’s mind… he will be here soon. I can feel him. He is inside me. How could she feel him? How could she know? She was a child, an innocent… what had Gellert done to Ariana?


	5. Plots and Potions

Chapter Five

~ Present Day ~

Hermione and Draco were standing in Dumbledore’s office along with Minerva McGonnagal, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Narcissa Malfoy and Kingsley Shacklebolt. They were all staring the fireplace awaiting the arrival of Lupin and Tonks, Fred, George, BIll, Fluer, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Deddalus Diggle and Arabella Figg. Kingsley had not said a word since sending out his Patronus to the members of the order he knew would be able to come without hesitation. There were other members who were still on missions, some were keeping up appearances within the ministry, some were on voyages like Hagrid, and others were splinter cells, members whom no one knew of aside from Dumbledore himself, to keep the resistance going and to prevent all names being spilled in case of capture and torture.  
One by one the additional members of the Order stepped out of the fireplace, and Slughorn, Flitwick and Pomfrey entered the Headmasters office via the doorway. When the fireplace had finally calmed and Bill, the last one to step foot inside, had brushed the dust off his robes, Kingsley rose from his chair and stood before the group.

“Dumbledore is missing. We cannot yet confirm whether he has been killed, captured or injured on his mission. Fawkes is gone. We have no means of communicating with either. The Patronus I sent to them failed. I have instructions from Dumbledore for this precise situation, he seemed to understand there may come a day when we could no longer rely on him being here in person. There is an envelope for each of you, and more for the other members. I now hold the names of all Order members. I am now in charge until the return of Dumbledore. Mrs. Malfoy, please, step forwards…”

Narcissa moved towards Kingsley and outstretched a shaking hand. Her long nails gleamed under the sun shining through the window, a bright contrast to dreary news. She withdrew back to the position to her son’s right and then Kingsley called Draco forward. One by one they all heard their name, stepped forward and received their letters until each were standing holding a large white envelope bearing the Hogwarts crest.

“We are to open them separately, and when we are alone.” Kingsley expressed. Malfoy caught Hermione’s eye and raised an eyebrow. She raised one back and moved towards him. “Apparently there is in information in each envelope pertaining to the overall mission and Dumbledore has left instructions to each of us. No one is to know Dumbledore is missing. It will cause upheaval and chaos, there is enough of that within the magical community already. We must maintain the illusion that all is as well as it was yesterday. We will soon be introducing some of the lesser known Order members to the core group. It is almost time for us to congregate and begin the revolt -” 

“No!” Hermione’s startled cry shocked everyone in the room as Kingsley’s eyes slowly turned to the bushy haired young woman breathing heavily.

“Miss Granger?”

“I mean, we can’t yet… Kingsley, I mean no disrespect but the task Dumbledore set me… I had a break through this morning which possibly changes everything we thought we knew about Voldermort’s future plans.”

Kingsley eyed Hermione, his face impassive but his eyes focused. Without taking his eyes from hers he motioned to the others in the room. “Everyone except Minerva, Potter, Weasley – Ron -, Draco and Hermione may leave.”

Narcissa stepped forwards.

“I won’t be leaving without my son. If he stays so do I.”

Molly and Arthur stepped forwards followed by Fred, George, Bill and Fluer.

“If Ron stays so do we.” Said Arthur, echoed by his clan.

“No. Nacrissa may stay. Arthur, choose one of your family members to stay.” His eyes swept the rest of the group. “You all know what you need to be doing. Do not procrastinate. You will be informed in due time.”

Molly looked up at Arthur, “You stay, Arthur, I’ll take the kids home and - ”

“Mum, we’re adults now, you can’t - ” began Fred and George together.

“You be quiet! How can you be trusted to fight for the survival of the Wizarding World if you cannot even go five minutes without interrupting your mother! Get in the fireplace and go home immediately, we Weasley’s will be opening our letters together!”  
Molly’s eyes passed over each of her children present including Fluer who shrank back under Molly’s “mother” gaze. She turned to Lupin and Tonks. “I expect you both to be at my dinner table this evening, too.” With that Molly strode to the fireplace threw in a handful of the green powder and disappeared. The others followed until finally only McGonagall, Harry, Ron, Draco, Arthur, Narcissa, Kingsley and Hermione remained.

“Miss Granger. You believe you have worthwhile information? Please, elaborate.” Kingsley stood behind Dumbledore’s desk and pulled out the headmasters chair indicating towards McGonagall to sit. McGonagall hesitated a brief second before situating herself in the high backed wooden frame that once held Dumbledore. Kingsley pointed his wand at Narcissa and a plump chair appeared behind her. She inclined her head in a small bow of thanks before sitting herself delicately on the edge of the cushion and turning to face her son.

Hermione took a deep breath. She knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

“I don’t understand the entire situation, yet. Dumbledore himself had some ideas however further research was required… research which Draco was actually able to help me with this morning.” Ron and Harry exchanged disbelieving looks. They had both heard, from Susan Bones, that Hermione had been seen fleeing the Room of Requirement extremely early that morning holding the hand of Draco Malfoy. Neither had had time to digest this information for mere moments later they had been asked to visit the Headmasters office by none other than Hermione herself who seemed ruffled. Now, hearing that Hermione HAD been with Draco earlier that morning put some pieces of a small social puzzle together for Hermione had not been seen in the common rooms last night. Harry shook his head and Ron stared daggers at Malfoy.

“I uh, I am uncertain who has been given information regarding the task I was set?”

Kingsley offered Hermione a small smile. “Child, everyone here is aware, that is why these people were allowed to stay.” Kinglsey turned to Narcissa, Arthur and Minerva. “You all know Dumbledore suspects Voldemort created Horcuxes, yes?” Minerva paled and nodded, Narcissa’s face twisted into a look of disgust and she, too nodded. Arthur wrinkled his forehead and muttered “I feel I missed something at one of the meetings?”

“Mr. Weasley, a Horcrux is a magical object created through malicious means in which one places and guards a fragment of their soul after committing murder to fracture the entire soul into pieces. It creates an illusion of immortality as the person creating the Horcruxes cannot be destroyed until each Horcrux is destroyed and with it, every fragment of the soul."

“Blimey!” interrupted Arthur who was wiping nervous sweat off his head as Hermione continued.

Hermione turned to face the group. “My task was to research the rituals used to create a Horcrux, and find out how, precisely, we can destroy them. So far I understand that the object holding the fragmented soul MUST be destroyed beyond repair using magical means. One cannot simply crush, stab or smash the Horcux as it is protected by evil magic; it must be destroyed by something that has little or no antidotes. We found, through Harry’s destruction of the diary, that Basilisk poison works well as there is only one known cure – Phoenix tears”

“Phoenix tears” said Harry at the same time as Hermione.

“I also found the ritual which outlines how one creates a Horcrux. It is most deplorable, it is foul and evil magic… to split the soul one must commit murder of a human being. One must then perform a … a physical procedure on the self and on the corpse before… before, oh Merlin, Voldemort had to perform a blood letting curse, and then he must ingest parts of his victims to tether his fragmented soul to something outside his body to allow him to use magic to rip it from his remaining soul and impart it into the object! Voldemort is a cannibal!”

Minerva’s eyes closed and her mouth compressed into a line so thin her lips were almost invisible. Narcissa’s face became a sickly green and she turned from the group to look into the corner of the office, her chest heaving as though she were attempting to keep the bile within. Arthur was staring at Hermione, bewilder across his face, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing as though he had a million questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Ron and Draco looked equally worried at their parent’s reactions and neither had noticed Harry as he stepped forward.

Kingsley’s expression was still impassive, he wasn’t here to judge, he was here to lead and he had to keep the momentum of this meeting flowing quickly as there was much to do, however after seeing Potter’s face Kingsley understood where the boys mind was.

“Harry, ask your question though she may not know…” Kingsley murmured as Minerva turned back towards Hermione and Narcissa attempted to hold herself together. 

“Harry… Oh Harry, I’m so so sorry…” 

“It’s true then? That’s how I can speak to snakes? That’s how I can see into his mind, and him into mine?”

“Huh?” Came Ron’s grunt. His father shushed him.

“Yes, Harry… the night he murdered your parents… the spell ricocheted as your mother sacrificed herself to protected you… the spell hit Voldemort and his soul, already fractured, split again…the spell, when it hit Voldemort, it blasted his body to pieces and so he blood let inadvertently... I, we, Dumbledore and I believe – and this is purely speculation, Harry – that either your father’s or mother’s blood must have inadvertently flown into his mouth for that’s the only way for you… for it… 

“For me to have become a Horcrux.” Harry looked at his best friends and then down at his feet. “But neither of them were murdered with violence!” Harry protested, “both were killed with the killing curse! It leaves no marks!”

“That’s true, Harry, but Snape, Hagrid and Sirius all visited Godric’s Hollow afterwards… they said then when James fell his head hit the banister and was cracked open… and your mother… it, it’s definitely possible that a droplet of blood from either of them - ”

“No! No, Voldemort DID NOT EAT MY PARENTS!”

“Harry! We’re not saying he did! Just that a spatter may have crossed his path, if he had swallowed, well, Harry, if he hadn’t you wouldn’t have set the Boa free would have you?” Hermione stared into her friends face willing him to understand that this changed nothing between them, that Harry was still just Harry and she was simply researching and piecing a puzzle together, Harry, however, seemed to be taking this information as personal slight against him and his family. He turned from Hermione and feigned deep interest in a small spindly object on Dumbledore’s desk.

“Potter, you can discuss this more with myself and Miss Granger later if you have further questions. Miss Granger, you mentioned a new development? Whilst the information regarding the Horcruxes is imperative it is not unknown… please, proceed.”

Hermione nodded at Kingsley, her eyes still on her friend who was hurting.

“This morning Draco and I were talking about - ”

Hermione felt an almost non-existent pressure on her foot and looked down and up in the space of a heartbeat to see Draco’s foot moving away from hers. She understood he didn’t want her sharing about his mother’s ordeal so she quickly rearranged the information in her mind and continued without anyone realizing she had missed a beat.

“About a plan Draco saw within Voldemort’s mind when Draco was using reverse legilimens on Voldemort one evening.”

Kingsley and Minerva looked at Draco impressed and Arthur widened his eyes. Narcissa was already aware of the information as her son had shared it with her immediately and so sat looking at her son impassively. 

“The picture that Draco formed from the thoughts whirring in Voldemort’s mind is that he not only wishes to become immortal, he wishes to create a new mutation of magic; he is working with Vampires to create a blood spell which will allow Voldemort to be turned but to retain his magical Wizarding abilities after the transition as well as gain the new Vampiric powers.”

“This is grave news, indeed.” Kingsley’s deep voice pierced through the silent room.

“That’s not all, Kingsley. Voldemort plans on murdering all the muggles, the squibs, the mudbloods and purging the bloodlines until only the pure twenty eight remain. Then he will hand select a small number of his most devoted and loyal servants to transform into Vampires – they will not retain their magic however they will be blood-bound to Voldemort offering him more control over their actions, thoughts and feelings. He will be forcing the twenty eight to mate continuously and he will be killing off the elders and raising the young to see the world from his perception. As the bloodlines continue breeding and he keeps killing off the elders only stories will remain of this world, the one we live in now… he wishes to oppress this world and create a completely new World Order. Eventually Voldemort will be seen as a God.”

The room was completely silent. Every set of eyes were upon Hermione and Draco, both of whom were attempting to keep a straight face rather than allowing their features to collapse into worry. 

“Oh Dear Morgana,” whispered Minerva. “The both of you, you’re positive?”

“They are, Minerva.” Narcissa spoke. “Draco came to me directly after viewing this. This is … one... of the reasons we accepted Dumbledore’s offer. The Order and the Malfoy's may not see eye to eye on everything however neither my son nor I wish to see the world we live in completely destroyed, nor do we wish for our friends and family to be forced into a life of sexual exploitation and, most of all, we cannot allow him to continue murdering our children!”

Arthur looked at Narcissa suspiciously. “Mrs. Malfoy, excuse me, but I believe I am the only parent here who has nearly lost children to Voldemort. I am thankful for your knowledge and assistance to the Order, however I must point out your son stands here, before us, healthy, if shaken but most certainly alive.”

“Draco is not my only child!” Narcissa hissed venomously at Arthur who withdrew from her wide eyes and beared teeth. “Voldemort is a MONSTER, he tortures his own followers, he uses our families against us, he murders without remorse - he took my child from me before he had even taken his first breath…” Narcissa folded in on herself and Draco moved to his mother’s side staring heinously at Arthur who began stuttering apologies.

“Narcissa… I am so very sorry, we had no idea that Voldemort was… well, we did, however we never believed he would enact this upon his own inner circle.” Minerva waved her wand and a box appeared in her hand which she offered to Narcissa. “Here, have a biscuit.” 

Narcissa raised an eyebrow but then saw her favourite caramel filled choc glazed cookie and reached out, bringing to her mouth and biting into the sugary comfort.

“That’s why Hermione was so adamant we could trust Draco!” Harry exclaimed as though he had discovered the twelve uses of Dragon’s Blood. “The other night, we were talking about her studying with Malfoy and she was positive we could trust the Malfoy’s. We should have never doubted her, hey, Ron?”

Ron looked Draco up and down and shook his head imperceptibly. Ron’s eyes then moved to Narcissa who was chewing delicately with tears dripping down her beautiful face. Ron felt touched. He moved towards Narcissa and offered her another biscuit from the box on the desk. Draco eyed Hermione suspiciously, he had only divulged this information that morning yet Hermione had trusted him for days?

“My mum makes the best choc fudge brownies this side of France, Mrs. Malfoy. She knows what it’s like to have her kids stare Voldemort in the face. I’m sure she’d be happy to talk to you, if you, you know, need someone to talk to… I just, I don’t mean you can’t talk to your husband, but well, you can’t can you? Otherwise you probably wouldn’t be here.”

Narcissa’s eyes were wide in disbelief at the red headed blood traitor in front of her offering his own version of comfort and love. She had rarely received such support from her actual family so to experience such an overwhelming response from people she had once considered enemies was completely foreign. Her eyes flicked to Arthur who nodded to show he agreed with his sons offer. 

“Thank you, uh, Ronald. I think it may do me a world of good to visit your mother. She has obviously raised some very kind and well-mannered children.” Ron blushed fiercely and went back to stand by Harry looking at his feet in an effort to hide his burning cheeks.

“If we may all please bring our attention back to the matter at hand…” Kingsley’s smooth, deep voice calmly commanded everyone’s attention. “Miss Granger is correct in her assertion that we cannot yet make our move, not with this additional information. We will need to move soon but first we will need to complete the task Slughorn set for Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy – how is the potion coming along?”  
“We will be checking it this evening, Kingsley.” Hermione responded. 

“And Granger will braid her hair before we do so.” Laughed Draco causing both Harry and Ron to look questioningly at Hermione who was half-heartedly swatting Draco’s shoulder.

“We will also need to find out where Dumbledore is. Lupin, Tonks, Bill, Deddalus and a handful of others have been selected as the find and retrieve team for Dumbeldore. We need to research this magic mutation which may allow Voldemort to transition into Vampirism and retain his magic… this cannot be allowed to occur. Miss Granger, I am aware Dumbledore has asked a lot of you already however this type of research is - ”

“Of course I’ll do it!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Mr. Malfoy can assist you, he is a bright young man and one of few who know this plot. Potter, Weasley, the two of you will assist Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy in any way they require, be it checking on the potion, referencing books or menial tasks.”

“Kingsley, no offense to Weasley and Potter, but Granger and I work well together because we’re both… how do I phrase this nicely… we’re not dim witted brawny baboons.”

Ron stepped forwards and Harry opened his mouth but Kingsley hushed both before turning back to Draco. “In times of war we must rely on those we once never trusted. You will use Potter and Weasley if need arises, Mr. Malfoy, and you will graciously accept their assistance. They, in turn, will not turn their heads at your requests. We all must put aside squabbles and differences as this war is only beginning. We have won many battles but there is still a long way to go before we can sit in peace.”

Draco, Harry and Ron looked between each other and finally, sighing, nodded their acceptance of Kingsley’s short speech. They all knew he was correct. The group disbanded shortly after. Kingsley had to get back to the Ministry with Arthur, Narcissa had Death Eater’s to question, Minerva had a class to teach and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were left standing in the hall outside the entrance to the headmasters office awkwardly avoiding each other’s eyes.

“Come on, Hermione, let’s get back to the common rooms.”

“Come on, Hermione, we should talk to Slughorn about the potion if it’s time to check it tonight.”

Malfoy and Harry spoke at the same time and Hermione looked between the two bemused.

“Malfoy, can you please check with Slughorn? I’ll meet you there this evening. I need to shower and change and then I have classes to get to. Harry, Ron, I’ll walk up with you but will be headed to the Prefects bathroom immediately as I didn’t have time to bathe last night.”

Draco didn’t wish to hang around Potter or Weasley any longer so nodded and waved at Hermione without smiling and proceeding down to Slughorns office to make certain that they should only add the extra unicorn hair if the potion had turned silver.

Hermione, Harry and Ron began the incline to Gryffindor tower in silence. Finally Harry turned to Hermione. “Where were you last night?”

“I was helping Malfoy study.”

“You weren’t in the common room when we got back. We won, by the way.”

“Of course you did, Harry, you were the youngest seeker in a century, you have seeking in your blood and you’ve put together a wonderful team.”

“Where were you, Hermione? You missed curfew… Ginny told us that none of the girls spotted you upstairs, so I know you hadn’t gone to bed early.”

“Lay off her, mate.” Interjected Ron who was looking uncomfortable. Ron had a feeling he knew where Hermione had been and he felt it was his fault for pushing her into the arms of Malfoy after pushing himself on to her in the common room. 

“It’s really none of your business, Harry.”

“I think it is, Hermione. It’s one thing to be helping him study, another to assist him with tasks set by the Order… but sleeping with Draco Malfoy? Hermione… I guess I thought better of you.”

“Mate, that’s enough…” Ron tried to push between Harry but Hermione shoved him off to the side.

“Harry James Potter, how DARE you! After everything we’ve been through together, after all the support I have given you, after I have done nothing but encourage you, help you, love you, you throw this in my face without even knowing the details!” Hermione’s eyes were shiny with tears. “I haven’t slept with ANYONE, and guess what Harry Potter, when I do I sure won’t be telling you now that I know what you think of me…” 

“Hermione, I only meant - ”

“It was perfectly clear what you meant. You thought Malfoy had used his charms on me and that I had just been simply overcome with passion rather than up past curfew studying and wanting to help the fight against Voldemort. For your information I was chasing you and the crowd to the common rooms, Harry, I called out to you and my cries went unnoticed. I suppose listening out for your friends doesn’t compare to the accolades of winning a stupid sporting match!”

With that Hermione turned and ran directly to the prefect’s bathroom without bothering to finish the climb to the Gryffindor dorms to collect her clothes. She was capable of conjuring up new robes and she needed to remove herself from Harry’s presence immediately. She was hurt that he thought that of her… not that it was such a big assumption, she HAD spent the evening with Malfoy, just not in the way Harry thought. And if she had, well it would have been none of Harry’s business unless she chose to share. Ron at least had kept his mouth shut and not attempted to jeer her on her evenings whereabouts but Hermione felt Ron’s silence was more so to do with the kiss than any respect he had for her privacy or romantic life. Hermione couldn’t not help but spill some tears and by the time she got to the Prefects bathroom and closed the door behind her she was sinking to the floor for the second time in so many hours folding in on herself and hugging her torso as she cried bitterly. She knew war changed people but she didn’t realise the deep impact it could have on the day to day interactions of those under such pressure and stress. 

“Granger?” Malfoy’s voice echoed through the room and Hermione lifted her head in shock.

“Malfoy! I thought you were checking with Slughorn!”

“I ran into him as he was heading to the forest to collect some ingredients, it only took a minute. I raced up here to use the bathroom before you did… I thought you’d be gone at least a half hour what with the climb up, the chatting, the sorting of clothing and then the walk back down.”

“I uh, I left Ron and Harry on the third floor.”

“Why so?” Draco drawled as he swam forwards in the rub to lean on the edge in front of Hermione. She averted her eyes and Draco laughed.

“If you leave your underthings on you can get in and talk to me. I’ll stay over this side. Accio briefs!” Draco’s briefs went flying past Hermione and landed in the water next to Draco. He dived under and came back up smiling. Hermione smiled. The water looked bubbly, the steam told her it was warm, and it was definitely big enough for two. Plus she really did need to bathe, she didn’t like the idea of wasting water, she had already spent an entire night alone with Draco and he hadn’t touched her, plus he was right, she could simply leave her bra and panties on.

“Malfoy, look over there while I undress.”

Draco turned and listened as he heard the rustle of garments being unfastened and dropped to the floor. He felt the water move and then a minute later Hermione was doing laps on the opposite side of the long bath.

“This really is lovely.” Hermione sighed, content and warm, her body was beginning to relax and she was able, for the first time since Draco’s disclosure that morning, to find some peace in her mind.

Draco began swimming parallel to Hermione, he kept on his side of the bath as he had promised he would, and together they completed five, ten, fifteen laps before each slinking into an opposite corner and looking at each other across the bubbles. Hermione felt herself flush when Draco’s eyes lowered, and although she knew he couldn’t see her clearly though the bubbles, water and undergarments, she felt exposed yet comfortable.

Draco, noticing her flushing cheeks drew his gaze back up slowly.

“Granger, you’re rather pretty for a … you’re rather pretty.” He stopped himself from using the word and Hermione noticed. She smiled at him.

“Malfoy, why are you being so nice to me?”

“I’m nice to most pretty girls, Granger.”

“You know what I mean, Malfoy. Your condescension levels have decreased, you no longer pick fights with me, you’ve held true to your promise to not use the word, you’re being helpful and sure, you still dislike Ron and Harry however even your taunts to them have decreased in intensity, you’re no longer vile, you're just... simply obnoxious.”

“What a compliment! ‘Simply Obnoxious!’ Granger, I’m going to get a banner made, I’m going to start a new Hogwarts house and our motto will be “nomine obnoxia, obnoxia per ipsum” and our house animal will be a peacock, the most obnoxious of all the birds.”

Hermione laughed aloud, “Obnoxious by name, obnoxious by game, nice motto, Malfoy, you’re incorrigible! Really, though, these changes started before you asked me to tutor you. You stopped speaking out so much in classes, you’ve kept up your Slytherin charade well but I saw you helping a first year girl at the start of year when another boy pushed her bag out of her hands and all her books spilled. Is it because of what happened to your mother? Or were you having reservations before then?”

“Granger, these are really personal questions. I feel I’ve disclosed enough for one day, if you don’t mind. How am I supposed to stay mysterious if I keep spilling my innermost secrets?” He swam closer to her, careful not to invade her personal space, but definitely moving out of his own half of the pool. He kept his eyes on hers as he circled her as she moved forwards from the corner she was leaning against. She moved into the center of the bath and ducked under and came back up pushing her hair out of her face.

“If you’re not going to talk then you can help; I need to wash my hair, condition and rinse, we need to get dressed soon and get to classes, then we have dinner, then we need to meet in Slughorns office at precisely 9pm.”

Draco swam to the edge and pulled the level on a large tap which flowed pink bubbles down into his waiting hands. He turned it off then, holding the pink goo above the water, waded back to Hermione. She indicated at her head, surprised Draco began applying the shampoo as he responded.

“Technically no, Granger, I have only one class today and then I have to have dinner with the “Slytherin Select”, a group of the Death Eaters inner circles kids where we order around the house elves, drink too much and pride ourselves on what malicious things our parents did this week and how much money we can spend on unnecessary items.” Draco’s voice was bitter. “I have to keep up the charade.” Draco was silent a moment as he lathered the bubbles in Hermione’s hair. It was longer than he’d thought, while it was wet it wasn’t bushy and hung perfectly straight down her back covering the light blue bra strap underneath her shining tendrils. He told her to hold her breath and ducked her under moving his fingers through to remove the shampoo then pulling her up and pressing his finger to the top of her forehead and pushing the excess water back away from her face, down her head and behind her ears so it wouldn’t go in her eyes. 

Draco’s mother had washed his hair like that until he was seven and his father had ordered Narcissa to stop spoiling the boy. Draco swam to the edge, retrieved some conditioner and came back to Hermione. Without waiting for her instructions he applied it to the tips and massaged it in gently, his nails scratching her scalp in a delicious frenzy as he attempted to give moisture to her frizz to allow her hair some down time rather than being the wavy bush it always had been.

“Well please don’t stay too late, if you can help it. We need to get to the dungeons.”

“Slughorn allowed me to move the potion to the Room of Requirement. He knows I have a secret study and he agreed with me it would better to keep a potion of this caliber hidden, specifically so that no student finds it by accident and attempts to experiment with it. We need it perfect.”

“Draco, I’m impressed. I was going to suggest moving it however was uncertain where we would put it.” Hermione smiled at him over her shoulder and Draco felt a flutter in his stomach.

“Right, well that should do it. Rinse it off and get ready for your classes. I’ll head out not so you don’t need to be hide yourself.”

Without waiting for her response Draco had swum to the baths edge, lifted himself out and begun towel drying himself as he sauntered to the door. He turned and waved and saw Hermione staring at him with a puzzled expression.

“See you this evening, Granger.” 

“Bye, Malfoy.” She responded as he slipped his robes over his head and shut the door behind him.

 

~ Godric's Hollow, Many Years Earlier ~

"I'm sorry, Gellert, you'll have to come back tomorrow. Ariana is unwell and I need to assist her."

"Open up, Alby, it's only me, Ariana dotes on me, she says I have 'beautiful eyes'".

Dumbledore closed his eyes and sighed. Getting Gellert to leave would not be easy, specifically as Gellert would know Albus didn't want him to go.

"We're having some family time, Gellert, I'm moving away from the door now to go to my sister. I'll see you in the morning."

"No! Albus! Open up! I have news! I have a discovery! I believe I have located one of the ..." Gellerts voice dropped in volume as he continued, "one of the three objects we have been looking for! I came straight here to share with you, Alby, my friend, my love, my twin, please open up and let me in!"

"Tomorrow, Gellert. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow will be a dark day if you keep this door closed, Dumbledore!"

Albus took note of the change of endearment... he had, in one swift sentence, gone from 'Alby, my friend, my love, my twin" to "Dumbledore". Gellert reverted to formalities when angry and having the door remain closed when he was pleading for entrance made Gellert angrier than he had been since he had begun his visit here. 

"Tomorrow, Gellert. Come back tomorrow." Abus pointed his wand at the door and the sounds of Gellerts voice was muffled as Albus walked into the side room to check on Ariana.


End file.
